After The Wedding
by archy12
Summary: Isabella's wedding to the highly eligible Lord Masen was like a fairy tale, but what happened after the vows had been spoken? (Period drama, British English used. Winner of Best Shocking Twist in Meet The Mate Contest. HEA.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything from the Twilight series. No copyright infringement intended.

Beta'd by the lovely LovePotionsBrewer. But for her help and encouragement, this story would not have been written, or made it to the contest.

 **Summary:** Bella's wedding to the highly eligible Lord Masen was a fairy tale, but what happened after the vows had been spoken? ( Period drama, British English used).

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 **After The Wedding**

 **Prologue**

It was a beautiful summer day when I was wed, and a fairy tale of a wedding.

I had never seen the man I was supposed to marry. He had seen me though, at the formal dance my aunt had arranged just as the season had begun. The next day itself, he had conveyed his wishes to Aunt Esme, and she had rushed to our house, thrilled beyond words.

I had been pruning my favourite rose bush in the garden. With the departure of winter the snow and icy winds too had said goodbye, and spring was making its presence known everywhere. The small white roses I loved the most would take some time to make an appearance, but I wanted the bushes free of any dead twigs and leaves, ready to receive the bounty of the tiny buds. After spending nearly an hour in the fresh air, I had just stepped in when I heard my aunt's voice coming from the sitting room.

"Renee! What are you dithering about? It is Lord Masen—one of the most eligible bachelors in the whole county. Just say yes!"

"I have to consult Charles first, Esme," laughed my mother. "And you know how shy and quiet Isabella is—we have to make sure she will be happy in that household. Wealth is not always a guarantee of marital joy, you know that."

Lord Masen had made a proposal for me? Impossible! Why would he do that? He could have chosen any eligible girl from any number of rich and titled families, settled near and far.

Aunt Esme was shaking her head as I peeped from behind the heavy curtains. "You and Charles are so strange, Sister. I know for a fact mothers who have been throwing their marriageable daughters at him, and here you are nitpicking about him being wealthy? Consult your husband by all means, but you know as well as I do that he will probably agree if you are willing for the match!"

Both my mother and my aunt were extremely chatty and spontaneous women, and their thoughts tended to run in one direction one minute and another direction the next. So my aunt's rambling only made me smile.

She went on babbling. "As for Isabella, why would she not be happy? Not only is Lord Masen wealthy but also extremely handsome. And he possesses such a sweet disposition! Nobody has ever heard him yell, not even the servants—and you know how these lords and ladies treat them sometimes. He has never been involved in one of those drunken brawls either that young men nowadays tend to engage in so frequently. What else do you want for our Isabella?"

I knew she had my best interests at heart. My aunt had no children, so she pampered me and my siblings as much as she could. She was married to Doctor Carlisle Cullen, a fine gentleman with twinkling eyes and a dry sense of humour. They had a good life.

By marrying him, she had definitely moved up in the society. Perhaps that was what she envisioned for me.

My parents, Charles and Renee Swan, were not poor by any standards, but neither could they be considered rich. My father was a gentleman farmer, with sufficient land to cultivate and keep dairy animals, and our house was large and comfortable, though not fancy like that of my aunt and uncle. Their residence had been constructed and furnished luxuriously, and Aunt Esme loved to show it off by hosting as many parties during the season as was possible for her. It was at such a party that Lord Masen had seen me, and apparently liked me enough to ask for my hand.

My thoughts were all in a whirl as I stepped away quietly and went to my bedroom. Did I want to get married? Yes, I did. Since I had turned sixteen I had begun dreaming of a husband, a house of my own, and children. I would be the most important person in my husband's life, and we would love each other to the moon and stars. I would manage my household as well as my mother did hers. And our children—oh, they would be the apple of our eyes!

Now at the ripe age of eighteen and a half, I had seen a couple of my friends get married and settle down. I also knew that not everything was hearts and roses between a husband and wife. Sometimes they had disagreements, and sometimes there were arguments resulting in harsh words and tears. When I had asked my mother why we had never seen her and father exchanging angry words, she had smiled and explained that marriage was a constant process of adjustment. Some people grew with time, others did not. Through it all, being unselfish and caring for your spouse was what made a good marriage.

I cannot say I understood everything she said, but my dreams remained intact. However, I had never dreamt of grand mansions or closets full of fine silk gowns or boxes of jewellery. Now that I had overheard the conversation between my mother and my aunt, I was plagued with doubts.

Would I be able to carry myself like a proper lady? Did I have the personality required, the skills of conversation and organisation Lord Masen and his family would expect? Or would I be a complete disappointment to them?

Aunt Esme must have succeeded in convincing my mother, for the very next evening my parents asked me to stay behind after we had finished dinner. Angela, my younger sister, and Mike, my brother, looked curious, but left quietly for their rooms.

"Did you know a proposal has come for you?" asked my father without any preamble. I had always liked this about him; he never beat around the bush.

I felt my cheeks becoming warm. "Uh, I overheard Aunt Esme saying something like that to Mamma yesterday," I admitted, unable to meet his eyes. Then I added hurriedly, "I had just come in from the garden. I didn't stay long, only hearing her praise for Lord Masen."

"Hmm." My father gave me a shrewd glance. "Well, in that case, what is your opinion? Do you want to get married to him?"

Mamma probably rolled her eyes at his direct question. I wasn't looking at her, but I felt it.

"Isabella," she said softly, her smile warm but her eyes serious. "Esme has praised Lord Masen—that is true. He is supposed to be good-looking, well-educated and kind-hearted. He has wealth and position—that is also true. But you know that we will never force you to marry against your wishes. If you have any reason not to marry him, please let us know so we can give him an answer."

I fidgeted in the over-stuffed chair. "Doesn't he want to meet me once—maybe ask some questions to see if I am suitable for his household?"

Mamma shook her head, her forehead wrinkled in thought. "Esme said that Lord Masen observed you at the ball and was pleased by your beauty and deportment. However, we can certainly arrange a meeting, if you wish so. Do _you_ have any questions for him?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I just…I want to make sure he will not be disappointed with me after we are married. I have no idea how to run an estate or rule over a battery of servants, after all."

"I am sure you will do very well," assured my father. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Isabella. Don't worry about the size of the household. It might take you some time, but you will get used to the change. Of course, I will request Lord Masen for a meeting. I don't think he will mind."

And so it was that I found myself face-to-face with my intended, three days after the conversation with my parents. My wish to meet him had been conveyed through Aunt Esme, and an invitation had been extended to us to come and have afternoon tea at the manor house, situated on the Masen Estate, just outside the town.

My parents had felt too bashful to attend, so it was just Aunt Esme and I. She had been there before and was comfortable with the place. Also, the housekeeper was the elder sister of her own housekeeper, so she felt especially welcome there.

After we had been greeted by the butler and shown into the sun room, where a lovely tea had been laid for us, I whispered to my aunt how intimidating I found everything.

"This house is like a palace, Aunt. The furnishings, the chandeliers, the tapestries—everything is so opulent. I am a little scared of Lord Masen now."

She patted my hand fondly. "Don't judge him by the trappings of his wealth, dear. I have met him and I know he is a gentleman with simple tastes who likes to spend his evenings reading or playing cards with close friends. But he is expected to keep a grand house, you know, so he can entertain certain distinguished guests in the manner they are used to. He is an earl, after all. You have nothing to worry about. Now, I understand that he would prefer to meet you without me hovering around, so I will take off to the kitchen. I want to have a nice chat with Mrs Stanley, and have a look at the kitchen garden later on. It seems she has introduced some new herbs to the gardener and is quite proud of them."

She left me before I could voice my objection, and I sat there wringing my hands.

The sun room was a very pretty room, with a sofa set in white wicker, offset with floral print cushions. The afternoon sun spilled inside through French windows that opened out to a well-manicured lawn. A couple of periodicals lay on an elegant side table. I picked one that had articles on gardening and such, and began looking at the pictures inside. Just then, someone stepped through the door and a shadow fell upon the open page. I looked up and almost forgot to breathe.

A man stood there—tall, broad-shouldered, and with the face of an angel. His eyes were a deep green, his hair a tousled mix of red and brown, with a few golden strands highlighted by the sun behind him. His clothes were cut in the latest fashion and were perfectly ironed. And yet…he looked nervous. It reassured me a bit. Otherwise his perfection would have literally brought me down to my knees.

He gave me a hesitant smile and bowed slightly. I suddenly recalled my manners and scrambled to my feet, answering his bow with that of my own.

"Miss Swan, it is an honour to meet you." His voice was like music to my ears, deep and slightly husky. "Anthony Masen at your service. Please have a seat."

"Lord Masen." I couldn't think of anything else to say, still lost in his caress-like tone. I did sit down though, and he followed me. There was a moment of silence while we looked at each other and then averted our eyes as quickly.

"How do you like your tea?" was his surprising question as he lifted the lid of the teapot and confirmed that the tea was ready to be poured. I was so taken aback that I just stared at him. He cleared his throat, waiting for my answer.

"Oh, please allow me to pour the tea. You cannot—you are a lord—it's not—" I spluttered finally.

He waved his hand. "You are a guest, Miss Swan. And I do know how to make tea." His face broke into a full smile, dazzling me. "How will you trust me with your hand if you cannot trust me with a cup of tea?"

His teasing question made me laugh. It also dispelled the awkwardness of first meeting to a certain extent. Surely a lord who could make his own tea and joke about it could not be difficult to live with?

I knew my aunt would not be absent for long, so I asked him the most important question first.

"Why do you want to have a girl from an untitled family as your wife? Surely someone used to this lifestyle will be a better choice?"

He took a sip from the gold-rimmed white cup in his hand and seemed to deliberate over his reply. "Miss Swan, as your aunt has probably informed you, I am a man of simple tastes. I want a wife who would be content with the kind of life I prefer. A few friends to converse with, my basic needs met with, and working for the welfare of my people—these things are enough to make me happy. Now, such girls may exist in titled families too, but I have not met one yet. Most of them are raised to be social butterflies, interested only in new gowns, new jewels and more balls than I care for. That is not to say," he added hurriedly, misinterpreting my look of incredulity, "that we will not have _any_ social life. Of course there will be visiting and dancing and such—just not all the time. Is that all right with you?"

I relaxed at his words. Of course it was fine by me. Even though I liked spending time with friends and dancing, I liked my books and gardening more. I assured him with utmost sincerity that I had always dreamt of such a life—quiet, useful, and with my loved ones around me. That made him relax visibly, his shoulders losing the tension they had held until then.

We drank our tea and exchanged more information about our interests and our families. He was an only child, but had a cousin he was close to. His father, Lord James Masen, lived a fair distance away. His mother had passed away when he was only three, and his father had never remarried. The fact seemed to make him sad. I changed the topic, hating the pain in his eyes.

He loved horses and had many of them in his stable. When I stammered that I had never learnt riding, he promised he would teach me.

Too soon Esme was knocking at the door, and Anthony seemed to think it would be awkward to meet her right then. He requested me to convey his regards to her and left quickly through the same glass door that he had entered from, after bestowing a brief kiss on the back of my hand. It made me smile like a lovesick fool.

I happily gave my consent to my aunt, who in turn conveyed it to my parents. The wedding was fixed to take place just after a month, which seemed to my mother too short a time to make all the proper arrangements. But a message from Anthony stated that they were not to worry and everything would be organised at the estate. Esme—and Elizabeth Masen, his aunt—would be involved, and they would also consult my mother wherever required. Mamma was a little disappointed I think, but my father asked her to be more practical. There was no way we could have arranged a wedding fit enough for a lord, not to mention his extended family, friends and acquaintances. He might have simple tastes, but _they_ would expect something grand.

Still, there were numerous things to be done, and time passed in a flurry of dress fittings and choosing wedding favours for our guests, among other things. Esme kept us informed on the preparations going on at the estate, "ooh"-ing and "aah"-ing over the decorations for the reception and the menu for the wedding dinner. It all sounded very impressive and rather overwhelming.

Soon my wedding day was upon us, and we were gathered in the little church where every wedding in the town took place. It was dimly lit by the light filtering in through the small, stained-glass windows, but I knew Anthony was waiting for me at the end of the aisle. I focussed on my shoes while walking towards him so as to not stumble, though my father had assured me that he wouldn't let me fall. Once he placed my hand in Anthony's, I relaxed and glanced at him through my veil, but his face was turned to the minister. Well, that was the right thing to do, wasn't it? I too turned to face the minister and waited for him to say the words I had been dreaming of since I had met Anthony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the union of…"

"Please repeat after me…"

As Anthony and I said our vows, I felt as if my heart would burst with happiness.

"I do."

"I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

Finally the moment had come. Since the day he had kissed my hand, I had been thinking about his full lips on my own. But right then I had a fit of shyness and closed my eyes.

Anthony lifted my veil and kissed my…cheek. I opened my eyes, confused, and looked into his—and my confusion turned to shock. These were not the jade-green eyes I remembered from that day, a month ago. These were grey-blue, and although the face they were set in had some resemblance to the other, it was not the same face. Had it been a practical joke—sending someone else to meet me? But why would he do that?

I felt dizzy as we turned towards the guests and were introduced as Lord Anthony Masen and Lady Isabella Masen. After having accepted the congratulations from our families, I was suddenly roused by my husband's voice.

"Isabella, I would like you meet my best man—also my cousin—Edward Masen. Edward, this is my wife—Lady Isabella Masen."

Long lashes swept his cheeks as his lips burnt the skin of my hand. He lifted his head to reveal familiar green eyes, and they were full of pain.

"Lady Isabella, it is an honour to meet you."

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 **A.N.:** I am already working on this story, but I want to have at least half of it written before I start posting. Let's see what I can do in a couple of weeks!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, both on the contest page and here. You are the best readers an author could ask for!

Many readers wondered if Isabella could get the marriage annulled. Perhaps, although that would have been very difficult. Technically, there was no fraud as she had been informed that she was to wed Lord Anthony Masen, and that's what happened. But the most important thing was that she belonged to an age and a background where an annulment would have been frowned upon. Truly, she may not be even aware of the provision.

LovePotionsBrewer has consented to beta the whole story. Isn't that wonderful?

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 **Chapter-1**

Edward Masen is coming back after a self-imposed exile of six years. I am not sure how I feel about that. My head says it is a political decision. However, my heart can't help but beat faster. My treacherous body can't help but remember the pleasure it received from his body.

I am Lady Isabella Masen, wife—no, I remind myself, not wife but widow—of the late Lord Anthony Masen. My husband was a good man and a good husband, but I have not been a faithful wife.

And now the man I cheated upon my husband with is returning from France. He will take his rightful title as Anthony passed away without fathering a son, and Edward is his first cousin. Though it has not been a month since my husband died, people are already talking of us getting married. It makes sense, I guess. I already have a position as Lady Isabella Masen, and Edward has never been married. And now it is his duty to give the earldom an heir. Rather than bring a wife from another family and divide the estate, it is a better idea to marry me instead.

But can I let him touch me again? Should I let him touch me again, after hearing the last gasping words from Anthony? He had never openly berated me for my slip, but neither had he forgiven me completely. Every time I had cried and begged forgiveness, he said that he didn't wish to talk about it, that he would like to forget it all. You would think it was enough on a husband's part not to remind his wife of her transgression, but to me it was not.

Because after he caught Edward and me together, he never touched me, never kissed me, never even entered my bedroom.

To the outside world, we remained the same loving couple, the earl and his countess who were perfect for each other. He managed the province, I managed the manor house. Both of us played our roles in the society faultlessly. But behind closed doors, there was nothing but heartbreak.

My daughter cannot be Anthony's heir, but she saved my sanity. She was the only sunshine I had in a world where the days were as dark as the nights. She was the only sign of an earlier time when my husband had loved me as much as I loved him.

"Lady Isabella? Lady Isabella?"

Someone was repeatedly calling my name. Oh, why could people just not leave me alone? I was grieving my husband. Surely I deserved to weep in peace?

But no, I still have a role to play. And I must play it with dignity. I cannot run away from my responsibilities.

I take a deep breath and dry my tears. "What is it, Alice? Do we have another guest?"

Alice is my personal maid, a young girl with whom I feel more comfortable with than any other servant. Our housekeeper is a sour-tempered older woman named Mrs. Stanley, and our butler a blank-faced and seemingly emotionless man, who also happens to be the housekeeper's husband. Those two are made for each other.

"I apologize for disturbing my lady, but your mother is here to see you."

I sigh heavily. I love my mother; she is a caring, loving woman, but right now I wish to be alone. Her gregarious nature makes her chatter constantly, flitting from one topic to another. Ever since Anthony died, she has been paying me these visits every two or three days. And my patience is wearing thin.

Before I have time to compose myself, she breezes in, all fluttering hands and adoring eyes.

"Oh my dear child, how are you feeling today? You look sad—are those tear marks on your cheeks? Alice, is your lady eating well? Has she broken her fast yet? Go get her something to eat. Go, girl, don't just stand there gaping at me like a goldfish!"

Alice gives me a startled glance. I nod at her. Anything to make my mother stop talking.

And I suppose I _should_ eat, even though I do not feel inclined to. If not for my Elizabeth, I would have slowly starved myself to death. Or taken a leap from the roof—that would have been much quicker.

I am sure Anthony's father wouldn't have minded. My father, Charles Swan, is only a gentleman farmer, so I definitely married above my station. If not for Anthony's insistence, this marriage would never have happened.

My mother is gently wiping away my tears. I thought I had stopped crying, but obviously not. Her eyes are soft with grief.

"My poor girl," she murmurs helplessly. "My poor girl!"

My father clears his throat from the doorway. Both Mother and I blink and try to smile. Father is a man of few words, but we know it breaks his heart to see any of us in pain.

"How are you today, Isabella?" he comes nearer but stops a couple of paces away. He has always believed in giving us space.

"I am well, Papa," I lie as best as I can. I do not want to talk about myself, so I try to distract my parents by asking about my siblings. "How are Angela and Mike? I have not seen them in days."

A look passes between them. They know what I am doing, but they do not dissuade me.

"They are well," my mother answers while my father nods in agreement. "They have been asking about you. Angela wanted to come with us, but I told her we would be only a few minutes."

Ah, so she _had_ noticed my reluctance to talk. It seems I had underestimated my mother.

"Please bring her next time, Mamma. I know I am not good company nowadays, but I would like to see her."

It is true. Angela is only a couple of years younger to me, and we have always been like friends. Mike is a boy, and only fifteen. Although he loves me, he has no idea what to say to me while I am moping. And tears make him uncomfortable in the extreme.

Alice enters and announces that breakfast has been served in the small parlour. She knows I am not fond of the large, opulent dining hall, and neither are my parents. The three of us would get lost in that room.

My parents assure me they have already eaten, so they just have tea. Under the watchful eye of my mother, I manage to chew through a boiled egg and a slice of buttered toast. However, every morsel sticks in my throat, and I have to gulp tea to make it go down.

"Have some bacon as well, Isabella, or some black pudding," encourages my mother gently. "Lord knows you can do with some colour in your cheeks."

I shake my head. "I feel quite full, Mamma. Thank you."

She looks ready to argue, but my father intervenes. "Renée, let her be. She will eat if she feels hungry."

"I know you are grieving for Anthony, dear girl," she sighs, "but you have to take care of your health. Think of darling Lizzie. Who will look after her if you are not well?"

I pick up a peach, and she is satisfied. Compromise.

"So have you decided on a groom for Angela?" I know that is one topic my mother will happily prattle about for the rest of her visit.

Her eyes light up. "Oh yes, that is what I wanted to tell you. We have found a most suitable match for your sister. His name is Benjamin Cheney and he is a clergyman, recently ordained and working in a nearby town. We will be able to see Angela every month or two!"

My father smiles indulgently. "Mister Cheney's prospects are certainly bright. You know how much demand there is for ministers nowadays, with the industry expanding and new towns springing up overnight. His father is a clergyman too. They have some land as well, so their income is good. Angela will be comfortable."

As soon as I finish my meal, my father gives this nod to my mother—a signal that it is time to leave. It brings a smile to my lips. All of us are familiar with that little movement of his head to the right, combining with a lift of eyebrows. He knows mother is fond of talking. If he does not remind her, she will not get up until much later.

She stands up, saying goodbye and promising to bring Angela next time. She takes a step but then turns quickly. Her expression says there is a question she wants to ask, but is uncertain. It makes me curious.

"What is it, Mamma?"

My father frowns, but she asks quickly. "Isabella, is it true that you are to be wed again? The cook said she had heard about it from her aunt who knows someone—"

I wring my hands while father looks on disapprovingly. I decide there is no point in hiding the truth. It will be common knowledge in a few days anyway.

"Yes Mamma, it is probably true. I have not had word from Anthony's father, but the household staff have been whispering among themselves. Jasper also came to me the other day, saying that congratulations were in order."

Jasper used to be Anthony's valet. He had been with him since my late husband was a young man of sixteen years, and was extremely loyal to him. He has taken his death hard. In a few weeks he seems to have aged years. I can understand that. After all, Anthony had always treated him less like a servant and more like a friend.

Aside from Jasper, I think Edward is the only other man who was close to Anthony. But he broke that trust six years ago. Not once did his name pass Anthony's lips during this period, not even in rage.

"Well, it seems too soon to me," remarks my mother, "but perhaps Lord Masen has his reasons. The earldom needs someone to manage it, and an heir—"

"Renée," my father interrupts her rambling. He nods again, and mother hastily takes her leave. Just in time too, for I am close to tears again. Will they never stop?

Alice looks at me sympathetically. "My lady, would you like to rest in your room for a while?"

I take a deep breath. "I want to see Lizzie, Alice. Is she bathed and dressed yet?"

She nods but looks doubtful. "I saw Maggie earlier, and she said Miss Lizzie is ready. But do you think you should see her right now?"

Yes, I am aware that this is not the time to visit the nursery. But I really need to see her, to feel her small figure in my arms, to be sure she hasn't disappeared from my life as well.

We proceed to the nursery wing, which is located at some distance from my bedroom. It is a pretty room, with white walls and pink furniture. I find Lizzie playing with her favourite doll family, spinning a yarn while Maggie watches her fondly.

"…and when Jacob came back for the hunt, Leah welcomed him home and asked him what animals he had shot in the forest. Can you imagine what that was, Miss Maggie?"

None of them see me, so I stop at the door and signal Alice to be quiet. My daughter is quite a storyteller, and I love to listen to her flights of fancy.

"A mighty lion, Miss Maggie, with strong teeth and a golden mane! It had attacked so many villagers and their cattle—everybody was grateful to him for slaying the beast. Was not Jacob a brave man, Maggie?"

"He was indeed, my dear child."

Lizzie looked thoughtful all of a sudden. "Was my father a brave man, Miss Maggie?"

Maggie doesn't hesitate, but there is a catch in her voice when she answers. "Yes my child, your father was a very brave man."

I enter the room then, not wanting to hear the sadness in my daughter's voice. Although the full concept of death is beyond her, she does understand that he isn't coming back.

And really, does any of us know more than that?

"Mamma!" Lizzie gets up and runs towards me, the short full skirt of her frock flaring up.

"Lizzie, do not run, please." The chiding comes from Maggie. She is already grooming my baby to be a proper young lady. It is her job.

I take a seat on a low ottoman, and hold Lizzie close. Her soft curls, so like my father's, tickle my cheek. She is so much like me, except for her beautiful emerald eyes, which she has inherited from Anthony's side of the family. Her hair is brown like mine but has gold highlights in it, again a gift from her father, a natural dark blond. My husband was certainly a handsome man.

"Mamma, did papa ever hunt a lion?" she asks, making herself comfortable in my lap. Her eyes shine with excitement.

"Yes darling, he did."

"A great big one?"

"Yes, a great big one."

"Then why did he call himself a co—" her forehead wrinkle as she tries to remember, and then smoothens as she proudly exclaims—"a coward! That was what he had said! Why did he do that, Mamma?"

Maggie and I look at each other in stunned silence. Alice is the one who gathers her wits first. She smiles, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Your father would never call himself a coward, Miss Lizzie. Perhaps you misunderstood. Perhaps he said something else and you did not hear right?"

Lizzie's cute little nose wrinkles, but then she shakes her head emphatically. "I heard it right, Alice. Papa was talking with Jasper. Then he slammed his fist on this table—" she pointed to a heavy mahogany desk near the window where Maggie sometimes read or sewed, "—and said that he could not do anything because he was a coward."

"Why would he do that?" wondered Alice. "Could my Lord be upset with Jasper?"

I had always suspected she was sweet on Jasper. Of course she would be worried about him.

"I have no idea, Alice," I murmured as an invisible hand gripped my heart and squeezed.

Anthony had called himself a coward. Of course. Why wouldn't he? He knew of my unfaithfulness, and yet he had to pretend to the world that we were a happy couple. He could not do anything because it would have created a terrible scandal all over the county. It might even have reached the ears of the royal palace. And his father—how he would have gloated!

"How do you know what a coward is, sweetheart?" asks Maggie. Perhaps she is still hoping for a misunderstanding.

Lizzie looks at her thoughtfully. "Because when Jasper said papa was not a coward, papa said—yes, I am, otherwise I would not be scared of what people think. That means a coward is someone who is afraid of people. Isn't that so, Mamma?"

For her, I am still the highest authority on everything. Ah, children.

"Sometimes even brave people are scared of something, darling. That does not mean they are cowards, just that…they can't do anything about certain matters."

Lizzie looks puzzled at this bit of information. I am puzzled too. What could Jasper have said that led to Anthony's outburst?

"When did this happen, Lizzie? Do you remember?"

"Yes, Mamma", she nods. "It was the day after my birthday. I was arranging my new dollhouse there, in that corner." She dips her head to indicate the direction where her dollhouse resides. It is a beautiful structure, pink and white like the nursery, but with a sloping blue roof. There is an abundance of tiny but perfectly designed furniture, and curtains in the windows. There is even a model front garden, with shrubs and trees and a swing for the dolls. Elizabeth got it on her fifth birthday, a joint gift from Anthony and me.

That was five months ago. I try to recall if anything had happened to upset Jasper around then, but can't think of anything. Anyway, he has always been a quiet sort of man, not prone to show his emotions to the world. Truthfully, he was like Anthony's shadow. People sometimes forgot that he was in the room with them as he silently attended his master. He must have heard some interesting conversations in all the gatherings he had been to with Anthony.

I shrug and change the subject. Elizabeth gladly tells me all about the newest adventure of her doll family. Then it is time for her lunch, and I have to leave.

I am in no mood to have lunch myself when the time comes. However, a message from Lord Masen forces me to join him in the large dining room. Clearly, he enjoys the opulence of that room. In fact, I am sure he is the one responsible for the overall ambience of the whole house. Left to Anthony, it would have been a much simpler place. But his father believes in showing off their wealth.

" _How will the peasants respect us if we don't give them something to look up to, Anthony? They must see the difference between us and them. Our garments, carriages, residence—everything should speak of the kind of wealth they can only dream of. The stableful of prime horses and the retinue of servants must show them that we exist at a higher level than they do, and will always do so. You have to keep up appearances, boy. Do you understand?"_

Anthony had looked at his lap and answered "yes, sir" in a low voice. His voice was naturally soft and pleasant, almost musical. I had never heard him raise his voice, but in front of his father it dropped to a bare whisper. Ironically, it made Lord Masen even more obnoxious.

"Are you taking care of your health, Isabella?"

I blink and look up. Since when has the pompous, uncaring man sitting in front of me begun to care for _my_ health? Even when Anthony died, he had seemed more disappointed than anything else.

"Yes, my lord." I try to be as respectful as possible.

"Good," he nods approvingly as a teacher would to a student who has completed her homework. "I have news for you. Edward arrived last night at his mother's. He will be here at three o'clock to offer his condolences at Anthony's untimely demise. I have also asked him to make you a formal proposal for marriage. You are to be married within a month."

I gawk at him for a second before I remember myself and lower my eyes. It is not as if I can refuse him.

"Yes, my lord."

Inside, I am seething at his utter callousness.

"I asked about your health because you are yet to give me an heir," he clarifies, a forkful of roast partridge on its way to his mouth. He points the fork towards me and gives it a little shake as if emphasizing his words. "Don't take too long, Isabella. You are not getting any younger. Your excuses might have worked upon Anthony, but they won't work upon me. Do you understand?"

I nod, wishing it was permissible to throw my fork, and maybe my knife too, at my father-in-law.

And what did he mean by _your excuses_? I never gave Anthony any excuse— _he_ was the one who wouldn't touch me!

Oh. Oooh. Of course he could not share _that_ with his father.

He takes his leave soon after, stating that he will be back for the wedding. His estate is nearly two days journey from here, so I can hope not to be disturbed any time before that. The days he has spent here since Anthony's death have been more than enough, even though I have had few interactions with him.

I return to my room and begin to pace furiously, muttering to myself. How dare he order me like that! The wedding I had expected, but couldn't he have worded himself better? Did he need to be _that_ insensitive? His son, his own flesh and blood was barely cold in the ground, and he was insisting that I produce an heir without delay? As if I had only to snap my fingers and a stork would drop a baby boy in my lap!

And then his words before that cold command register in my brain. I gasp and sit down heavily, suddenly feeling breathless.

Edward is here.

Of course I knew he was on his way, but until now it had been a vague item of news. Now that he was physically here…

How was I going to face him?

* * *

 **A.N.:** In case you are wondering, Isabella was supposed to visit her daughter only once a day, around teatime or so. Her father-in-law believed in adhering to the social norms, and the nobility believed that parents should be a little distant from their children. They would be spoiled otherwise, you see!


	3. Chapter 3

Hmm, lots of confusion and questions from the reviewers. Rest assured everything will be made clear in the coming chapters.

Oh, the time gap between the prologue and the first chapter is six years and some months. Sorry that it was unclear earlier!

The past will be covered through flashbacks. I could have continued the story from the prologue, but I wanted to have more of Edward than Anthony. :)

Beta'ed by the lovely LovePotionsBrewer. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter-2**

 _I have asked him to make a formal proposal to you…_

Oh heavens, he will be proposing to me, and I will have to say yes.

Was he going to kiss me as well?

I slap my wrist sharply at the thought. I should not be thinking such thoughts: that was so wrong.

I hated Edward for how he had made me feel; how he still made me feel.

I loved my husband, and now I love the memory of him. How could I even imagine another man kissing me?

 _Because Edward has done more than just kiss you,_ my mind whispers. _He knows your body as well as Anthony did, and what is more, you felt more with him._

Before I can stop myself, my mind is inundated with the memories of the first—and last—time we were together. His kisses, his touches, the intense look in his eyes as he sank inside me…the groans he produced as he moved quickly…

Frustrated, I beat my pillow with my fists. The memories are making a liar of me. And not just a liar but a hypocrite as well, for being angry with Lord Masen. How am I any better than him?

I try to read, to take a nap, to play Patience with Alice—nothing works. Three o'clock arrives too soon, and I am still not prepared to receive Edward. The emotional turbulence in my heart is making me jittery.

A footman announces Edward. He is waiting for me in the small parlour. I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders and proceed there.

Edward is standing at the large window, his body angled so as to keep watch on both the garden outside as well as the door to the room. As I enter, with Alice right behind me, he straightens to his full height and then bows slightly.

"Lady Isabella."

I murmur the appropriate response, but I am too busy drinking him in to say anything else. He was a beautiful man when we first met, but now he looks even better, somehow. There is a…maturity to his features, an alertness to his eyes, a steadfastness to his brow. He looks like a man with a purpose.

I guess success does that to a man. Anthony might not have mentioned him, but Mrs. Stanley let me know a couple of times that Edward was doing very well in France, having used his horse-training skills on the racecourse.

He is offering me condolences on Anthony's death. Is he really sorry Anthony died? After all, he stands to gain everything: his title, his property, and his wife.

"Thank you. Would you like some tea?" I ask in a flat tone.

He gives me a strange look but nods a yes.

"Alice, can you please inform the cook that tea is to be served in fifteen minutes?"

"Of course, my lady."

She leaves us alone for the time being, though I know she wouldn't be very far. Even though I never shared my feelings with her, she understands that he makes me uncomfortable. She is intuitive that way.

"Won't you take a seat, my lady?" Edward gestures to an overstuffed couch, covered with velvety red fabric. The sides and back are carved in the latest fashion, the edges decorated with an intricate vine trellis.

All I see is that it will give him an opportunity to sit close to me, if he chooses to do so.

"Thank you." I lower myself into a single chair with delicate armrests instead.

However, he is not dissuaded. To my utter consternation, he drags an ottomanl and sits right in front of me, his height giving him the advantage so his face is at the same level as mine.

"How are you, Isabella? Really?"

How can he sound so sincere? What does he care for my wellbeing? _Why does the sound of my name on his lips fills me with pleasure_? I have to keep my distance.

"I am well, my lord," I answer woodenly. I keep my eyes on his hands, not looking up at all.

But then his hands come closer to mine and engulf them, startling me so that I look straight into his eyes.

And I get lost in them—in their beauty, and in the intensity of his gaze.

"God, Bella, don't look at me like that!" he groans. I have heard it before, when his lips had been as close to mine as they are now. I can feel the caress of his warm breath. It brings back the one memory I am keen to forget, and I jerk backwards in shock.

"Don't you dare touch me!"

"But, Bella—"

"It's _Isabella_ to you," I say clearly, glaring at him to the best of my ability. "Only Anthony called me Bella. I know I am supposed to marry you—Lord Masen let me know today—but you will never replace Anthony in my heart. I love him and I always will—to my dying day!"

He sighs deeply and moves the footstool back, and I can breathe again.

"Be-Isabella," he says quietly, "I do not intend to replace Anthony. I know how much you love him, but…I was hoping that…we could take this second chance fate has offered us and find happiness together. Both of us—"

But I am already shaking my head. "My lord, my happiness was intertwined with my love for my husband. Unless he comes back from the dead, it will not be possible for me to regain it. Perhaps you should consider marrying another lady—"

This time _he_ shakes his head emphatically. "No, Isabella, happy or not, I will marry only you. I have been apart from you for too long. All these years…it seemed to me that I would be in exile forever and never see your sweet face again. Now that James has offered me the title as well as your hand, I will not run away."

"You called him by his given name?" My expression must be comical with disbelief. "Nobody dares to—don't you know he doesn't like it?"

Lord James Alexander Masen, Anthony's father, has an ego that is bigger in size than the whole Masen Estate. It does not brook irreverence.

Edward smiles for the first time. "I am not scared of him—not any longer."

Huh, he is probably the only one. Everybody I know is terrified of even breathing wrong in Lord Masen's presence. "You have changed. I remember when—"

His mouth lifts slightly on one side. "Yes, I have changed; I have grown up. Also, I am no longer a poor stable manager. James _needs_ me to secure his estate."

"It is a pity girls can't carry on with the title," I remark dryly.

Edward's eyebrows rise, but then his expression transform, becomes much softer.

"Your daughter—" he clears his throat once, looking nervous. "I would like to see her. May I see her?"

I blink in confusion at his request. "Why would _you_ want to meet her?"

He smiles wistfully. "Because Anthony was my cousin and a dear friend. Because Elizabeth is _your_ daughter and I want to know everything and everyone connected with you. Please, Be—" he stops himself again. "Isabella, you cannot imagine what it was like to be so far away from home for years. I feel like I need to catch up with everything I have missed!"

His intensity moves me. "All right. We can go see her after tea."

As if she was waiting for a signal, Alice knocks softly on the partially closed door.

"Tea is served, my lady."

I nod for her to wheel the tea-trolley in.

I nibble on a dainty cucumber sandwich while Edward chooses a delicious-looking scone with clotted cream. He always did have a sweet tooth.

After a fair pretence of doing justice to the various accompaniments, and having a cup of tea each, we move to the nursery. Edward seems eager as well as somewhat reluctant all at once. I wish I could see inside his head.

We find Elizabeth at her favourite table, busily colouring the picture of a butterfly in a large book. Colours have always fascinated her, be they the flowers in the garden or the splash of a glorious sunset across the sky. I might be biased, but I believe she has the eye of an artist.

Her mouth is pursed in concentration as she moves the crayon along the very outline of the picture. I suppress a smile as I turn to Edward, who is standing just behind me, sure that he must be laughing at Lizzie's seriousness.

His expression, however is one of awe, as if he has never seen a little girl before, not at close quarters anyway. That part might be true.

He notices my look and gives me a sheepish smile.

"Shall we?" I indicate with my head.

"After you."

Our voices attract Lizzie's attention and she looks up. A smile lights up her face as she gets up and runs to me. Luckily, Maggie is not around to stop her.

"Mamma!" She stretches out her arms, and I pick her up instantly. Whenever she is close to me, I feel complete—or at least less incomplete.

She notices Edward immediately. Her first reaction is to hide her face in my neck, but her curiosity doesn't let her for long. I feel rather than see her raise her head and peek at him.

"Mamma, who is he?" she whispers finally. Never mind that Edward can hear her perfectly clearly.

I walk further into the room and sit on the couch, with Lizzie perched on my lap. Her long hair, held back with a red silk ribbon, swings forward as she gazes at Edward. He looks around, perhaps trying to decide where he should sit, then nods and takes a seat on the sofa chair in front of us.

"Lizzie, I would like to introduce you to Lord Edward Masen," I say, stroking her hair out of the way. "Now how should you greet him?"

She climbs down from my lap but remains close. With her little hands clutching her frock on both sides, she bobs a clumsy curtsy.

"My Lord Masen." Her voice is a sweet trill.

"I am honoured to meet you, Miss Elizabeth," Edward answers stiffly. Then he exhales and his manner softens. "You are such a pretty girl, just like your mother."

The indirect compliment startles me. Did he really mean that? Have not the last six years altered his perception? After all, I am older now. I have also given birth to a baby, which means I am a little wider in the hips.

And he must have seen women who are far more beautiful than me while on the continent. A flash of jealousy runs through me as I think of him with a stylish Frenchwoman on his arm.

His eyes are fixed on my daughter, however. "May I call you Lizzie, like your mother does? You see, Elizabeth is my mother's name too, so it feels a little strange to call you that."

His mother's name? Huh, I suppose I had forgotten about it. Of course Anthony had mentioned it in passing. She had practically brought him up after his mother died in childbirth. Anthony was very young then, just three years or so.

I had met her only once after the wedding though. And she has pretty much been a recluse since Edward left the country.

Lizzie bobs her head eagerly, probably charmed by Edward's smile. I still remember how it used to affect me. And he must have had lots of practice while he was abroad.

"What should I call you?" asks Lizzie thoughtfully.

Edward raises an eyebrow. Clearly he had not expected that question. Before I can present a solution, he says, "I am your father's cousin, so I suppose you should call me uncle. Now, why don't you show me your picture-book? That butterfly you are colouring looks pretty."

Lizzie is eager to comply with his request, and soon both of them are immersed in the various pictures she has coloured. I feel neglected, which is an extremely odd feeling in the situation. Edward is just trying to be friendly, isn't he?

Maggie returns in a few minutes, and is surprised to see us, especially Edward. I introduce them. Edward asks Lizzie if he can visit her again, and we take our leave after I have kissed my daughter goodnight.

"I hope you don't mind my visiting Lizzie?" he asks quietly when we are back in the parlour.

"It is a little late to ask, isn't it? She is so taken with you; if you don't keep your word, she will be disappointed." I wish I could keep my tone light, but there is definitely a touch of bitterness there. And Edward does not miss it.

"Have I offended you in some way? I did not mean to," he says, his eyes sincere. He rubs the back of his neck, a habit I am familiar with. "It's just that I want to know her—and that she should feel comfortable with me. I don't really know how to behave around children, you see, but I would like to learn. She is an important part of our family, after all."

"Our family," I repeat tonelessly. It sounds so…wrong. Does he think I will forget Anthony completely?

A reddish hue steals upon his high cheekbones. "I mean…since we are to be married…shortly." He chases away his embarrassment with a deep breath, and smiles wistfully. "She is like a miniature version of you, Isabella."

"Except her eyes," I point out with a smile, but I know it is a sad one. "Anthony said she had his grandfather's eyes, since his were grey-blue like his father's."

Edward nods in agreement. "Yes, they seem to have skipped a couple of generations." He clears his throat. "I think I have taken enough of your time, Isabella. Um, I am staying with my mother for now, but I will be in the office most days, if you need to discuss anything."

His tone is almost hopeful, but I am not in the mood to entertain him. "Of course, my lord. I doubt it though. I am sure Lord Masen has already given instructions for the wedding to the Stanleys and to Jenks. It will be a simple one, I believe."

Jenks is the steward of the estate, and Anthony's right hand in the matters of administration. Well, I suppose he is Edward's man now.

Disappointment flits across his features, but his voice remains calm. "Of course. Well, I will see you at the wedding then, barring any urgent matter that might come up. Goodnight, Isabella."

I mutter the same to him, and he turns away. My shoulders sag with relief, but before I can take another breath, he is facing me again, his eyes burning. The next moment his arms encircle me as he pulls me close, his muscles hard against my soft curves. A protest forms on my lips but never leaves them as his mouth stops any sound from escaping me, flooding my body with long-forgotten sensations. His hands, large and strong, roam on my back, and I feel their heat even through the many layers of my clothing. When he finally lets me breathe, both of us are panting.

Then my mind clears, and shame fills my heart. How could I have been so wanton? The triumph on his face makes me furious, and I draw back my hand and slap him. The sound fills the small room.

He seems outraged, but then takes a deep breath and nods once, accepting. But I am not so easily pacified.

"You are not my husband yet!" My voice is low, barely above a whisper, but my anger is obvious.

His lips twist in a half-smile-half-grimace as his palm touches his reddening cheek.

"And when I am? Will you deny me my right even then?"

"No, I will fulfil my duty as a wife," I reply while gritting my teeth. "However, you would do well to remember that you will never replace Anthony in my heart, so don't expect anything more than that. Have I made myself clear?"

"Extremely." He has the gall to smile, disbelief plain in his tone. "One month then, Isabella. I will prove to you that you want me as much as you did six years ago. Goodbye."

He leaves this time, and I rush to my bedroom, to fall on my bed and curse myself for being so weak.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Some people have issues with Bella for cheating upon Anthony. All I can say is that none of the characters in this story is perfect. Bella herself realized her hypocrisy in this chapter!

Now, what do you think of Edward?

Also, if anyone is interested in being a pre-reader, please let me know!


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.:** Wow, my inbox is overflowing with story follows and favorites! Where did all of you come from? :)

Some answers in this chapter, and probably some questions as well!

Beta'd by the excellent LovePotionsBrewer. She makes my unwieldy sentences sensible, and makes sure I do not use too many _ands._

Please welcome my new pre-reader, Beachlover6453!

All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter-3**

The month passes too quickly for me. While everybody else in the manor is excited about the upcoming nuptials, I feel like my heart is beating for two different people. On one hand it keeps on reminding me that I had been attracted to Edward since the day I met him, and my slapping him was a purely defensive action. Then it does a turn-around and whispers words of love and faithfulness for Anthony, my husband who completed my life and filled my nights with his gentle lovemaking. The day of the wedding arrives, and it has still not given its verdict.

Edward and I have managed to avoid each other. He has definitely been around—that much I am aware of. Anthony had been in no state to attend to the matters of the estate for the last couple of weeks of his illness; no doubt there is a lot of backlog for Edward to deal with. Still, I have barely seen a glimpse of him in passing. He has lunch in his office, and I have mine in my room, except when I have company.

Alice has informed me that Edward will be moving into Anthony's old room after the wedding, and preparations have been made in that direction. It doesn't matter to me either way, as I have no attachment to it. Before Edward went away, Anthony always visited me in my bedroom, and his days were spent in the office or touring the province. In fact, the only occasion when I went to his room was the day he passed away. So it was not as if Edward was stepping on any precious memories.

There was only one day when he joined me in the parlour, and that was when my parents had paid a visit, Angela in tow. Since they were eager to know the man I was getting married to, I had to inform Edward and ask if he could meet them for a few minutes. I was half-hoping he would refuse on account of work, but Edward appeared promptly in answer to the missive, all dripping charm and dazzling smiles. I sighed, knowing well that all three of them would be impressed with him, although my father didn't care much for flattery of manner and flowery words. But then, Edward did have this innate sincerity that shined through his outer persona. Even I had accepted that he was far from being a superficial combination of good looks and polite conversation. So even if my father judged him as critically as any doting father would the man his daughter was going to spend her whole life with, he could not fault him for anything specific. After Edward had left, my father grudgingly admitted that he seemed 'a bit of all right' for a lord.

Mamma and Angela were starry-eyed, of course. Edward was _so_ handsome, carried himself _so_ well, had such beautiful manners, in their own words, and oh—he was so attentive to them, unlike many men of their acquaintance who never really listened when a woman spoke.

"I must say, Isabella," remarked my mother in a rather sly tone, "he seems half in love with you already. Did you know him well before he left for France?"

I was taken aback. "I met him now and then. He _was_ Anthony's cousin, you know."

"Of course, of course. Maybe he had a crush on you earlier? Not that you would have noticed, what with that beautiful husband of yours around!" She laughed her merry little laugh, while my insides seemed to turn to ice. I was well aware how rumours spread like wildfire in the so-called upper echelons of the society. And there were always footmen and maids around to catch a word here and there—that was even more dangerous than a completely fabricated tale of an affair.

"I am sure he was nothing more than friendly, Mamma. As for today, I suppose living on the continent and managing his own business has polished his manners, that's all. Or maybe he is one of those rare men who care what his in-laws think of him?" I laughed to show I was only making a joke.

"Oh well, in that case you can convey to him that I am well-pleased with him."

My father then did his head-nod-eyebrow-raise, and they took their leave.

As the number of days to the wedding lessened, my anxiety increased. My sleep was broken, and full of strange, disturbing dreams that I could not translate into words when I woke up. My thoughts returned to my first wedding again and again, and what happened afterwards.

-ATW-

I had first heard of Anthony after attending my first coming-out ball at my aunt's. Esme Cullen was my mother's sister and married to the eminent surgeon Carlisle Cullen. They had not been blessed with any children, so they showered their love on me and my siblings. Esme loved to entertain, and her parties were eagerly awaited. Anthony had seen me at one of these parties and inquired from Carlisle as to who were my parents. Next day Esme paid us a very excited visit, gushing how fortunate I was to be noticed by one of the most eligible bachelors of the land.

Apparently Anthony had decided that I would be a suitable wife for him.

I was stunned that a titled gentleman wanted to marry me. I asked my parents if I could meet him once, just to ask him why he had chosen me—a girl from an untitled family—for his wife. They had no objections to the match, of course, but they wouldn't force me either. The decision would be mine.

I met Anthony—at least I thought he was Anthony—in the sun room of his palatial house. I found him beautiful, well-spoken with a sense of humour, and courteous. He explained to me that he wished for a wife who took pleasure in the simple things of life, not a social butterfly as the girls from titled families he had met. Since it was what I wished for too, I thought we were well-suited to each other.

On my return home, I gave my consent to my parents.

The wedding was an extravagant affair, mostly because Lord James Masen wanted to compensate for his daughter-in-law being from an untitled family. Anthony later explained to me that it was easier to give in to his demands and keep peace, rather than argue on the side of economy. And they could afford it—no question there—so he let his father have his way.

My parents were not stingy, but they could not compare with the coffers of the Masen family. Anthony had assured them that they should not go to too much trouble, seeing he was the one responsible for hurrying them along. He had more than enough resources to make all the arrangements, so it would please him greatly if my parents would let him do everything—well, more or less everything.

The result was a fairytale wedding, remembering which made my heart ache even now. The ceremony was performed in the town church, and my heart swelled with gratitude as I bowed my head reverently. Anthony spoke his vows softly but clearly. As I repeated mine after the minister, I promised to myself that I would never forget them.

It was only when Anthony lifted my veil and kissed my cheek that I had my first look at him. Imagine my shock when instead of the angel I had met that afternoon in the sun room, I found another man staring at me. I was so unsettled and confused that I felt faint as we turned towards the guests and were announced as Lord Anthony Masen and Lady Isabella Masen. Even though questions swarmed in my mind, I could not manage to utter a single word.

Had it been a joke, albeit a tasteless one?

Then Anthony introduced me to Edward, and the pain in his eyes made it clear that it had not been a joke on his part. Anthony himself looked slightly nervous. What did he expect me to do—create a scene? I wanted answers, but I would wait for a more opportune moment.

Whatever the reason might have been, the fact remained that Anthony was my husband.

The reception was held on the estate. To this day the people of the town express their wonder over its lavish decorations and sumptuous food. There were many distinguished guests at the function, and their fine carriages and finer clothes remained the subject of discussion in various gatherings for months to come. However, the whole thing seemed more like a dream to me than anything else. Anthony made small talk with the lords and ladies as I smiled dazedly and shook hands and tried to believe that I was now a part of his world. I had to behave like a proper lady. I could never let my husband down in front of his friends and acquaintances.

Finally it was over. The guests left, except those who had come from afar and would be staying for the night. Anthony escorted me to my room, stammered that he would see me in a bit, and left hurriedly.

An elderly woman named Mary had been assigned as my personal maid, and she helped me take off my bridal gown—snowy white with yards of silk and lace—and the many layers underneath. When I was down to my shift, she helped me into a much simpler nightgown from my trunk. It had long sleeves with cuffs at the wrists and came down to my ankles. Mary brushed out my hair and braided it so it was much more comfortable than the elaborate coiffure I had worn for the wedding, patted my shoulder in a motherly gesture, and left me to my chaotic thoughts.

Having had a sheltered upbringing, I had not even kissed a boy yet. My mother had done her duty in giving me the standard advice of being pliable to my husband's advances. Also, a friend of mine who had been married for almost a year had provided me with some details based upon her experience. She _had_ warned me that the first time—and maybe a few after that—might be painful, but once my body had 'adjusted to the invasion', the pleasure would be worth it. It mostly depended on how considerate and patient my husband turned out to be.

Based upon Aunt Esme's praise of him, I was sure Anthony would prove to be a kind man, but I can't say that there was not some measure of trepidation inside me as I imagined what our first encounter would be like. Gradually, anticipation gave way to fatigue as time passed. The candle in its holder burned down steadily, and I yawned, wondering if he had been detained by his friends.

I was proved right when the door opened to the sound of male laughter and teasing remarks. Anthony was wished good night and good luck with his bride, and pushed in by a couple of hands. Even in the semi-darkness of the room, I could see that he was not quite steady on his feet. It seemed they had continued the celebration even after the reception was over.

With careful steps he neared the bed and sat down on the other side. Slowly he took off his shoes and pulled his feet up, and faced me.

We looked at each other and then at the shadows in the room.

He cleared his throat once or twice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and his words slurred a little.

"Apologies, my lady. I have kept you up so late."

"It is all right, my lord," I answered, feeling awkward. "Your friends wanted to spend more time with you. I understand."

His lips twisted in a grimace. "You are a very understanding girl then. But I wonder if you are forgiving as well? You must be feeling deceived that I didn't meet you in the sun room, aren't you?"

I took a deep breath. Yes, of course I was.

"Uh, I would like to hear the reason first, my lord. It certainly gave me a great shock when I saw your face in the church. Did you play a joke on me?"

His expression was one of horror.

"No, Isabella, of course not! I would never do that to anybody!" He paused, looked up to the ceiling and exhaled roughly. When his eyes came back to me, his expression had become soft again. "Though I suppose I deserve that question. The truth is, I have had a very unusual childhood. I have never had the opportunity to speak with a girl in an intimate manner, and when you wanted to meet me, I became very nervous. I was sure I would make a fool of myself and scare you away, and I really wanted to make a good impression. Jasper-my valet—suggested that I have a glass of wine to calm my nerves, so I did. It made me feel better, so I decided to have another one."

He looked down, his long fingers twisting anxiously.

"Um, I don't remember how many glasses I had. I passed out completely. When I woke up, it was very late in the night. Edward told me that he and Jasper had tried to stir me but failed, so he went to the meeting and pretended to be me. He thought it would save me from certain embarrassment."

"He should have told me the truth, my lord, or made an excuse on your behalf. He could have said that you were indisposed." I tried to rein in my anger, but I am sure my tone betrayed me.

"He did not want you to think you were going to marry a drunkard. And if he had lied, your aunt would certainly have paid me a visit out of courtesy. What would she have thought then? She would have informed your parents, and they would have refused the offer. I would have been crushed!"

"You wanted to marry me _that_ much?" I looked at him curiously before I continued. "Was your reason…Edward said he wanted a wife who enjoyed the simple things of life and was not a social butterfly. Did he speak on your behalf?"

He nodded eagerly, smiling a relieved smile. I couldn't help noticing how beautiful it made him look. Truthfully, he had many similarities with Edward.

"He did, my lady. Every word he spoke there as Anthony was taken from my lips. In a manner, he acted as my messenger that day and gauged your feelings for the marriage."

"He still should have told me the truth," I sighed quietly. What was the use of flogging a dead horse? "It is done however, and it cannot be changed. Just promise me that you will never lie to me again. I believe that trust is the foundation of a happy married life; I cannot imagine one where husband and wife lie to each other. Can you promise me that?"

His smile grew wider. "Of course, my—Drat this lord and lady business! May I call you Bella? It suits you very much; you are such a pretty girl." He rushed on before I could say anything. "And please call me Anthony. My father is the one who is fond of being addressed as _my lord_ all the time. He—"

He broke off as there was a soft tap on the door.

"Come in."

A young man peered inside cautiously. The shadows in the room obscured most of his features, but still he seemed somewhat familiar. Where had I seen him?

"My lord, I apologise for disturbing you. Your father is insisting on seeing you. He says he plans to leave early in the morning, so he must speak with you now."

It seemed like Anthony was rolling his eyes. "Speak of the devil," he muttered. Then he turned to me and sighed.

"Bella, I must go and appease my father. He usually has a lot to say, so it will be a while before he lets me go. Please get some rest—you must be exhausted by now. And oh, this is Jasper, my valet. You can meet him properly tomorrow. Have a good night, my sweet wife."

"Good night," I whispered, half-disappointed and half-relieved.

He placed a soft kiss on my hand as he bowed slightly. Another beautiful smile, and he was gone. The door closed silently behind him.

* * *

Next chapter will have Edward and Bella's wedding!


	5. Chapter 5

Many, many thanks to Tarbecca for rec'ing this story on A Different Forest, and Nic on The Lemonade Stand. It was very kind of them to mention my little tale there!

A warm welcome to all the new readers!

Quote from a message Starnosy sent me: "With all his wealth, Anthony was a prisoner of himself because he had not the confidence and courage Edward has now."

I couldn't have put it better myself!

Heartfelt thanks to LovePotionsBrewer. This story wouldn't be half as good without her comments and suggestions

* * *

 **Chapter-4**

My second wedding is a complete contrast to my first.

There are no laughing bridesmaids, no grand reception, and no swarm of guests from the nobility. The wedding is attended only by our immediate family members—my parents and siblings, Lizzie, Edward's mother, and of course Lord Masen—and a few members of the staff—Mister and Missus Stanley, Jenks, Alice and Jasper, and Maggie.

Rather than go to the church, Edward invites the minister to the manor house.

Instead of snowy white, I wear a deep blue gown that Edward had brought with him from Paris. It is pretty and not at all flashy, with a modest neckline and full sleeves edged with ivory lace. There is no veil of course, as a widow marrying a second time does not wear one. Neither do I carry a bouquet which is a sign of purity and thus unsuitable for me.

I had been most surprised when the gown had been delivered to my room a few days before the wedding. Inside the large, rectangular box and on the top of the neatly folded garment, there was an envelope with my name on it. I had picked it up with trembling hands, the handwriting familiar to me even after all the years that had passed.

Inside there was a letter addressed to me.

 _Dearest Isabella,_

 _I saw this gown in a store window one morning when I was going for a meeting. Its style reminded me of your unassuming beauty, so I purchased it, even knowing that there was only a slim chance of giving it to you. Still, I hoped._

 _Today that hope has come to fruition. God has reunited me with you, and soon you will be mine for eternity. I cannot sleep for happiness!_

 _Please wear this gown on our wedding day. I know that you will be the most beautiful bride ever whatever you choose to wear, but it will give me great joy to see you in this._

 _Yours, Edward._

How could I refuse his wish?

He could have commanded me to wear the gown, but no—he had made a request instead. And reading the first paragraph made my heart ache. It proved that even when he was far away from me, he had been thinking about me.

And so the gown had hung in my closet, a physical reminder of my fast approaching nuptials with Edward, until the day itself arrived.

It is a beautiful day with clear skies; only a few puffs of cotton clouds here and there. The warmth of the late summer sun caresses our skin. The ceremony takes place out in the rose garden, so we are surrounded with colours and fragrance.

Even the beauty of the day cannot prevent my heart from sinking as I take my place beside Edward. I am _marrying_ this man. Can I honestly mean the vows I will take?

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…"

The same words had prefaced my vows to Anthony. Had they not meant anything? If they had, how could have I cheated on him with Edward?

"I Edward Masen, take thee, Isabella Masen, to be my lawfully wedded wife…"

The voice reaching my ears remains smooth, but the pressure on my hand increases suddenly, making me look up and into Edward's eyes. Had it been that obvious my attention was wandering that Edward had to bring me back?

"…and thereto I plight thee my troth."

He releases my hand, and the minister gestures to me. Mechanically I take Edward's hand, my thoughts chaotic.

"I Isabella Masen, take thee, Edward Masen, to be my lawfully wedded husband…"

As I repeat after the minister, my eyes remain locked with the forest green ones in front of me. Their intense gaze makes me realise that I may be going into this arrangement for the sake of duty, but Edward is not. Maybe gaining a title is a powerful incentive, but the manner in which he looks at me makes it clear that he is utterly serious as far as his vows are considered.

I have a feeling that my plan to keep him at arm's length is not going to be easy to execute.

"…and thereto I give thee my troth."

Edward produces a ring from his pocket and places it on the book in the minister's hands, together with a gold coin. The good reverend smiles and gives the ring back, and Edward takes my hand and slides the ring smoothly onto my finger. I am not wearing gloves because the weather does not demand any, and also it is awkward to take one off for the ring.

"With this ring I thee wed…"

I look at the plain gold band upon my finger. Something is engraved upon it, but it is too fine to be read easily. Later, then.

To my surprise, Edward brings forth another ring. The minister blesses it and offers it to me. I stare at him like a fool.

"It is not usual, but Lord Masen wishes to wear your ring. Please put it on his finger," says the reverend.

Swallowing once, I do as he says, feeling the warmth of Edward's hand in mine. He wants to wear my ring? It just reaffirms what I had thought earlier.

When we are pronounced man and wife, my throat goes dry in anticipation of his kiss.

He keeps it chaste, yet it is firm, just like his words. The brief contact leaves my lips tingling.

The prayer over, we are introduced to the family as Lord Edward Masen and Lady Isabella Masen. My mother is the first to hug me, her eyes shining with tears even as her lips stretch in a wide smile. She is happy, believing that finally I will shed my grief and find the joy of matrimony with Edward.

My father congratulates us in his taciturn manner, but his eyes say he is relieved. I had no idea he was so worried about me.

Elizabeth Masen is the next to enfold Edward and then me in her thin arms. She is dressed simply in a pale blue gown, its cut almost severe. With a start I realise that blue seems to be the running theme in the small group around us. Everybody around me has a touch of blue in their clothes.

I assume Edward has something to do with this harmony.

Edward himself is wearing a dark blue morning coat over a white shirt. I was too engrossed in my thoughts to notice earlier, but he looks very handsome in his wedding attire.

Elizabeth has a thin black band around her hat, a symbol of her grief for her husband. I wonder why she did not remarry. She could not have been much older than I am now when she lost her husband.

I wonder if she hates me. Does she know the true reason for Edward's exile?

Her light blue eyes look into mine but do not reveal much. Her smile is formal, a courtesy to the occasion.

Lizzie has been squirming in her royal blue satin frock as Maggie held her hand, but now she runs forward, arms stretched out. I stoop to embrace her, but Edward surprises me when he kneels on the grass. Lizzie kisses my cheek and then moves to kiss Edward's with an ease that speaks of mutual comfort. I knew of course that he has been visiting her off and on, but I had no idea that they had grown so close.

Am I jealous of my own daughter? Why am I being so irrational?

Angela hugs me and congratulates both of us. Mike bows to Edward and does the same, in his shy adolescent manner. When Edward offers him his hand to shake, he looks surprised but pleased at the unexpected honour. Now he can boast to his friends that he has shaken hands with an earl!

The staff bows and murmurs their best wishes to us, and then Edward's mother assumes the role of the gracious hostess and invites the guests into the house for the wedding breakfast.

James—Lord Masen—is the only one left behind while everybody else moves towards the manor. I am surprised he waited for them to finish before taking his turn.

He offers us a stiff if somewhat smug congratulations. He barely deigns to smile, and his eyes remain cold. He places his right hand rather heavily on Edward's shoulder and leans towards him.

"You better bed her right away, boy," he hisses harshly, almost making me doubt my ears. How can he be so crass? "I want an heir and a spare within the next two years. None of that _my wife is too delicate_ or _she needs to recover from childbirth first_ or _poor lady is feeling indisposed_ nonsense that Anthony used to spew. My estates need fresh blood, the lustier the better. Do you understand?"

I feel like my whole face is on fire. I look around surreptitiously to make sure nobody is paying attention to James. Luckily, they are far enough not to be able to hear his serpentine whispers. Only my mother looks back over her shoulder, her expression curious. I hurriedly nod at her to resume walking.

"Yes, sir." Even though I am not looking at Edward, I know his words have come through clenched teeth. He must be furious at this treatment, but he can't very well shout at James. Lord Masen is a powerful peer, probably capable of taking away what he has given.

"Good. Let us go in then," commands James in a satisfied tone. I am grateful that he does not linger to throw any orders in my direction. Instead he marches off, leaving us staring at his broad back.

Edward brushes at his shoulder as if getting rid of James' touch. I hear him sigh quietly before he speaks. "We will talk about this later, Isabella. Just… don't let his rudeness spoil this day for you, all right?"

I am not sure how unspoilt this day was before James opened his crude mouth, but I nod anyway. I want this to be over as soon as possible.

Of course, it won't be really over with the day, for night will follow it: a night where Edward is supposed to bed me right away.

I don't want to think about it right now. I take the arm that he has offered.

"Let us go in then."

* * *

 **A.N.:** Thank you for your kind and encouraging reviews, and questions! I love that you are so involved in the story.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! Your involvement in the story is what encourages me to write on.

I never did specify the ages of Edward and Anthony, did I? When Bella got married, she was eighteen, Edward was twenty and Anthony twenty-three.

There is a difference of opinion regarding Bella's behaviour, but as far as James is concerned, the vote is unanimous—he is a piece of work!

LovePotionsBrewer is my amazing beta, polishing each chapter until it shines.

Pre-read by Beachlover6453. Thank you for another pair of eyes, sweetie. Sorry your computer played spoilsport last time!

* * *

**Chapter-5**

I had spent my first reception in a daze. This one, though not much of a reception, will remain etched in my memory forever.

We gather in the dining hall even though there are so few of us. I am sure it is James' idea. I know he had given Jenks and Mrs. Stanley detailed instructions in writing.

He is certainly lording over the proceedings. Is the haddock fresh, the bacon crisp, the bread toasted just right? The china seems clean enough, but the pattern is one he has seen many times before. Do we not have any new pieces? Edward, please direct your wife to buy new china. How can you think of entertaining with these old pieces?

He won't address me directly, I know that. Now that I have a husband once more, every comment and criticism will be directed at him. I am expected to listen and comply with every _suggestion_ of his lordship. God forbid that I answer back or speak on my own behalf!

Anthony must have acted as a buffer between us even more than I thought. I am aware that James checked the estate accounts periodically, but there was hardly anything regarding the household affairs that was conveyed to me. It is impossible that my management had been perfect, so Anthony must have handled things very diplomatically.

I recall what he had said to me on the second day of our marriage, after all the guests had been sent off with _thank you_ and _we will see you again_.

" _My father thinks I am a good for nothing, spoilt young man who spent his time at college partying and chasing women. I want to show him that I can work as hard as the next man, Isabella. If I have to spend twelve hours every day dealing with this estate and the people who live on it, I will do it and ensure prosperity for everyone. Just because I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I will not waste my life in useless pursuits."_

" _My lord," I had replied, wondering if he had meant to call me Bella only in the privacy of my bedroom. "I am sure that your father will be proud of you one day. I will do my part by managing the household to the best of my capability."_

" _It might keep me away from you though. I know a newly married couple should spend much of their time together, but…Give me a year, Isabella and I will prove my worth, and then we can be together more."_

And we had done it. Even though Anthony had grown more and more distant from me with every passing year, he had made the estate even more prosperous than before. Our tenants were happy, our fields full of crops, the livestock healthy and the paddocks green. We entertained guests on a regular basis, though not very frequently. Nobody could have found fault with our annual Christmas Ball or the pageant we put up on All Saints Day. James should have been proud of us.

Yet here he is, criticising our china and pretending Mrs. Stanley isn't competent enough to serve a good meal.

I may not like the woman much; she has never displayed much warmth towards me. But I will give her this much: she knows her job, and she knows how to handle the kitchen staff. I would not question her on that.

Is James trying to impress my parents? Doesn't he know they don't care for fine china or lavish meals? They just want to see me happy. The wealth of Masen family or the fact that they can trace back their aristocratic ancestors for five generations means very little to them.

Elizabeth is making polite small talk with my mother, but she seems distracted, almost lost in this huge place. She must be happy for Edward, of course, but if I had to make a guess I would say she would prefer to be back at her home.

Edward's hand is a warm presence on my back. His touch is light, yet I am conscious of it. It only disappears when he bends to kiss Lizzie on her cheek. It is time for her to go to her room. I wish she could stay more, but James has already cleared his throat twice, looking pointedly at Maggie.

For some reason, he has never taken to Lizzie as a grandfather. I understand that he was expecting a grandson, but how can he be so indifferent to her? She is such a winsome child. Both of my parents adore her and shower her with their love and gifts. Even Elizabeth, who has never met her before, seems enchanted with her innocent smiles and somewhat clumsy curtsies.

Finally it is over. My parents take their leave, my mother getting tearful again. She makes me promise that I will visit soon and bring Lizzie along with me.

Edward's mother seems almost relieved to go, though she does congratulate me once more. Edward hugs her warmly and assures her that he will be home frequently.

Jenks informs Edward that our tenants—how strange it sounds to include Edward instead of Anthony in that pronoun—wish to congratulate him, so he should take a round while there is daylight. James immediately declares that he would like to go as well. He also states that he is going to stay for a few days, "to make sure that Edward has everything under control".

I take my leave of them, but Edward catches my arm, stating that he wants to have a word with me before leaving.

"I will meet you outside in a few minutes," he informs the two men, and doesn't wait for their answer.

He practically marches me to my room, while I ask him what the urgency is. Once we are inside, he wastes no time in locking the door and attacking my lips with his.

Really, it feels like an assault. My back is against the door, my hands against his chest, trying to push him away. At least, I think I am trying to. I am not sure, with his body so close to mine and his lips nipping and licking mine, I am not sure of anything. When his tongue touches and strokes mine, I give up the pretence of resisting him.

For all its intensity, the actual kiss lasts only for a brief while. He steps back, his hands caressing my face lightly. The flames that had just begun licking my body recede slowly as my mind begins to function again.

"I have been wanting to do this for hours, Isabella," he murmurs, his hot breath washing over my face. "No, I have been waiting to kiss you for a month now. If James was not here, I would make my excuses to Jenks and take you to bed straight away."

The shock that must be visible on my face makes him laugh. It is a dark sound. He lets go of my jaw and shakes his head.

"Oh my dear wife, the things I want to do to you! You are too innocent to imagine even half of them. But right now I must go with James. I will see you at dinner then."

He takes me by my shoulders and moves me away from the door. A smart bow, and he is gone.

-ATW-

Dinner time comes too soon, and goes even sooner.

Mrs. Stanley paid me a visit while the gentlemen were out, to inform me what dishes were on the menu. I am sure I smiled and nodded, but I had no idea what she said. All I could hear in my head was Edward's voice.

… _I would take you to bed…the things I want to do to you…_

What did he mean? It wasn't as if I was a virgin! On the contrary, I had given birth. I knew how things worked between a man and a woman.

Was there more to know? A certain whispered conversation between two half-drunk ladies at the Christmas Ball two years ago resurfaced in my mind. Apparently one of them had taken a new lover, a young man of great sexual prowess. Her words had disturbed me, being too raunchy for my taste. Surely a lady of rank was not supposed to use that kind of language?

Was Edward going to speak like that? Was he going to act like her lover did?

Could he? Was it possible that he might have learnt some things while he was in France? Did he have a mistress there?

It was quite probable. I was aware that many married noblemen kept mistresses, so Edward having one made sense. A handsome young man like him could not possibly have lived alone all those years.

Of course I did not mention any of my thoughts when he returned. Not that there was much of an opportunity to do so. He came to my room so we could go to dinner together, but that was hardly the time to bring up the subject of his mistress.

James was a little less obnoxious at dinner. Perhaps he had too much wine during the day and was feeling its soporific effect? Or perhaps he was just tired. Whatever the reason, I was relieved that he did not speak much, focussing on his food instead.

Edward behaved like a perfect gentleman, making just sufficient small talk to not let the silence shift into awkwardness. He complimented Mrs. Stanley's efforts for the reception, and she smiled; she actually smiled! I could not recall the last time I had seen her smiling. Maybe she was fond of Edward since she had seen him grow up from a child to a man?

Mr. Stanley did not smile, but then butlers were not supposed to, were they? At least, I had never seen one doing that. Still, he looked pleased when Edward thanked him. I believe his stiff good night was a tad less unbending than usual.

And here I am in my room, changing into my nightgown while Edward does the same in his. Well, not into a gown, I hope. I tittered at the silly thought. My nerves were making their presence known.

Alice is collecting the clothes I have worn throughout the day; to be sorted into different piles depending upon their need to be aired, dusted or washed. She looks at me curiously.

"My lady, did you say something?"

"No, Alice," I say, shaking my head. "I just…uh, feel strange."

She is by my side immediately. "Are you feverish, my lady? Shall I get some chamomile tea for you?" Her tone shows her concern.

Alice has been with me for almost five years. When Mary became too frail of health and went to live with her daughter in another village, she recommended Alice as my personal maid.

Alice was fifteen then and had been working for a rich woman in her village, but she was not happy. Mary assured Mrs. Stanley and me that Alice was sincere and attentive to details, and a very sweet girl as well. I am glad to say that she has been proved right.

I can't explain to her what is bothering me though. How can she understand? I myself don't understand very well!

"Thank you, Alice, but I don't have a fever. I am just…" I look in the mirror. The simple flannel nightgown in pale pink is comfortable, but…is it suitable for the occasion?

"You look very pretty, my lady. I am sure his lordship will like your attire," she says softly, as if my doubts had reached her without any words being spoken.

As I said before, Alice is very intuitive.

A knock at the door prevents me from sharing any more with her. She nods, picks up the clothes she had discarded before and leaves as Edward enters the room.

* * *

 **A.N.** **Tarbecca** has informed me that 'After The Wedding' has been voted as one of the top five Fic Dive of the Month for October, on **A Different Forest.** Wow, to be mentioned on the same page as 2Old4Fanfic, the author of 'Trichophilia'? I'm amazed!

Thank you to all those who voted for me there.

Potions asked me why their guests left before dinner. Well, the wedding took place at noon, as was the norm then. Then there was the wedding breakfast. When Bella had married first, it was a huge affair and the reception went on for hours. This time though there were so few guests that everything was over by teatime!


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for your support! Your groans at leaving the chapter where I did had me laughing. But this chapter is long enough on its own!

Please remember that Bella's opinions are a product of her time and upbringing. They are definitely not mine.

Thank you, LovePotionsBrewer, for being so diligent and constructive. You are the best.

Beachlover6453, your gif. of a girl fanning herself. lol!

* * *

 **Chapter-6**

Edward shuts the door and locks it, and my uncertain heart begins to beat as if it's trying to fly out of my chest. In complete contrast, my feet feel as immovable as if they are made of stone. It is impossible to take a step back or forward or in any direction. All I can do is to stare at his reflection in the large, ornate mirror in front of me as he moves closer.

He is wearing light blue pyjamas made of fine linen. The thinness of the fabric emphasises his muscles. He looks beautiful in his day clothes of course, but there just seems to be _more_ of him right now. Or maybe I am too aware of him.

Finally he is standing behind me. His arms encircle my waist as his head dips and rests on my right shoulder. There is a question in his eyes as they meet mine in the silver-framed glass.

"What?" I whisper, the feel of his body so close to me making my breath quicken.

"Are you scared of me, Isabella?" His voice is low, a velvety whisper. "Was I too rough when I kissed you before? I am sorry if—"

He stops abruptly and closes his eyes, his eyebrows scrunching together in a frown.

I am puzzled. Why is he apologising? He is my _husband_ now. He can do anything he wants to!

"My lord, it is your right to—"

"Edward." His lips press into the soft spot where my neck joins my shoulder, making me shiver. His hands hold mine and play with them.

"Huh?" It is all I can come up with. My brain is in a tizzy.

"Call me by my given name, Isabella. My ears have been longing to hear it from your lips for years."

"Edward, then." My voice is slightly shaky. He raises his head from my shoulder and turns me around.

"Thank you." His happiness is so obvious. Then his smile becomes mischievous. "So what were you saying about my right?"

"Um, it is your right to…" I know I am blushing now. I have never had to talk with Anthony on this subject. He knew what was to be done, and did it quietly. "I mean, you have marital rights, so…" Please don't make me say it, I add silently.

He is not making it easy for me. "And exactly what comes under my marital rights?" he presses his lips together as if fighting a laugh.

I am a little annoyed now. "You know what they are! It was you who asked me if I would deny you after we were married, if you remember."

"I do, but my definition of marital rights might be different from yours, so I want to know," he answers as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Why is he toying with me?

"Do you really expect me to say the words?" I snap impatiently. "You know it is not something a husband and wife talk about!" I am sure my face is burning with mortification.

His face becomes serious in an instant. "I am sorry, of course you—Look, I didn't want to take anything for granted, that is all. Will it be easier if I ask you, show you? You can tell me if you like it or not."

I am not sure what he intends to show me, but it seems all right. I nod.

"For example," his voice is silky in my ear as he bends his head. "Is it all right if I kiss your neck?"

I nod again, and his lips skim across my neck, dropping kisses like tiny flowers in the breeze. My eyes close at the sensation.

"What about your shoulder?" His lips move accordingly, even as his hand pulls the edge of my nightgown's ruffled neck. It stretches easily, and I feel soft heat spread on my bare shoulder. His other hand presses in the small of my back, bringing my lower half closer to his. His thigh muscles feel hard against my softness, and his…

I jerk backwards in shock, but he doesn't let me go. On the contrary, his free hand slips lower and covers my breast. Even through a layer of cloth, his fingers seem to singe my flesh. A moan escapes my mouth without permission.

"Still all right, Bella?" he murmurs against my skin. I feel the spoken words more than hear them. I know I should correct him as to my name, but I can't bring myself to care. It seems I have been dead for years, and he has brought me back to life. He can call me anything as long as he continues to…But there is something we should do first.

'Edward, the candle…"

He doesn't hear me. His lips dip to the swell of my breast, and I feel them suck hard. If I don't remind him now, it will be awkward later.

I tug at his hair. "Edward, listen to me. Blow out the candle before we…"

He raises his head finally, and his eyes are dark, so dark they seem more onyx than their usual jade. They also seem rather dazed.

"Eh?"

"You have to blow out the candle."

The darkness recedes a little. "Why?"

I just stare at him, dumbfounded. What does he mean—why? Because that's the way it is done!

He raises an eyebrow, waiting. I force myself to speak.

"Well, we can't do _anything_ until then. Mary used to put out the candle before she left for the night. She said it was less awkward that way."

He utters something incomprehensible.

"Pardon?"

"I know the majority of couples prefer to do the deed in darkness, but I want to see you."

I am sure my eyes are the size of saucers. He smirks.

"Don't you want to…see me, Isabella?"

"I—I don't—I mean," I sputter while he watches me carefully. Half of me wants to be indignant at the question. A wife is not supposed to see her husband naked, after all. It is against all decorum. The other half is curious to know how he looks under his clothes.

The only time we had been intimate was in semi-darkness, and we were in such a hurry. I can hardly recall anything from that rendezvous long ago. Now that Edward is in front of me in the flesh, what happened before seems more like a dream than reality.

With Anthony, such a thought had never even entered my mind. He worked in his office after dinner, while I read a book or embroidered. I would go to bed and he would join me later. In the beginning there was a lot of fumbling as he didn't seem to know what was to be done, and I had no idea how to help him. But he was always gentle with me; for that I was grateful. After our first time, he had apologised to me for any pain he might have caused me. It was a very brief and very awkward conversation.

"Isabella?"

I blink and come back to the present, to Edward.

"I asked you if you would like to see me without any clothes."

Heat suffuses my body at the thought. "It doesn't seem right." That is all I can say.

"Because people say so? Why does _that_ matter? Tell me what you want, sweetheart?"

I can't help but smile shyly. "Sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart," he confirms, his finger stroking my cheek lightly. "My wife, my love, my everything. I am so grateful to God for giving me a second chance with you. I will do anything for you, Bella, anything." He kisses my lips softly as his arms surround me and I am pulled close to him. I can feel his heart beat against my ear.

The unexpected sweetness brings tears to my eyes. "Why do you love me so much, Edward? I am nothing special. In fact—"

His finger on my lips stops me. "Don't complete that sentence, Bella. It wasn't your fault, not at all. As to why I love you…Is there ever a reason why anybody falls in love? I just did…the first time I saw you. I wanted you for life and beyond, and I wanted to be yours forever."

I wish I could assure him of my love in the same manner, but the truth is, I am not sure yet. I know I am attracted to him. There is no doubt about that. But do I love him?

I want to know him first. He has changed so much while he was away, and that leads to another question. Does he know me as I am now?

"Maybe you loved what I was at eighteen, Edward," I say quietly. "Maybe I have changed over these years. Even physically I am not the same as I was then…you might be disappointed."

"Impossible," he assures me as he steps back and looks at me, his hands on my shoulders. "I love all of you, Bella, exactly as you are. If you have changed inside, I look forward to discovering you again." His voice drops, caressing me as his hand caresses my neck. "As for your physical appearance, I find you even more beautiful than before. I wish to discover your body too, my love. Will you allow me to do that?"

His voice is mesmerising; his eyes lock me in their stare. How can I refuse him?

"Yes," I whisper helplessly.

His lips lift in an uneven smile while his fingers are busy with the buttons on the front of my nightdress. There are only three of them, so it takes him only a few seconds, and then he is peeling back the edges and…exploring.

His large, strong hands move under the fabric this time, setting my skin on fire. One of them cups my breast and squeezes. I moan loudly, and then cover my mouth, aghast at my behaviour.

"Don't do that," says Edward as he looks at me with adoration in his eyes. "If you feel like making a sound, then do it. I want to hear you."

"But that is so…shameless," I manage to say even though my mind wants to give up thinking coherently. My eyes are fluttering, and a delicious heaviness seems to be stealing over me.

"No, it is the acknowledgement of your pleasure, my darling."

He squeezes again, and my eyes close as I almost fall against him, weak with the sensations coursing through my body. Suddenly my feet are no longer touching the floor as I am lifted and carried to my bed. The soft sheets feel cool against my burning skin. I sink into the thick mattress with a sigh.

"Now he will take you," my mind whispers through the haze. "He has kissed you and fondled you. He has given you pleasure. Now it is his turn to take."

I wait for him to lift the hem of my gown to my waist, to sink inside me. Will it feel the same as it used to, or different? It has been so long that I can't remember clearly what it was like before. All my memory can conjure up is a pressure, a fullness and sometimes, pleasure.

I wait. Is he taking off all his clothes?

Ah, there it is, my gown inching upwards, very slowly. But what…Is he kissing my feet?

Shocked, I open my eyes. Edward is indeed bent over my feet, pressing kisses on them.

"Edward," I giggle, "what are you doing?"

He looks up, eyes twinkling, and smiles. Then he moves to my ankles and my calves. When his lips touch the back of my knees, I squeak.

Edward smiles mischievously and moves up. His lips suck on my left thigh, and then move to the right one and I feel his teeth nip it lightly. When he kisses all over it, I begin to squirm with embarrassment. He is so close to my…lady-parts…and all the kissing and fondling is making me feel strange there. Nice, but strange.

Just as I open my mouth to chastise him, he moves up swiftly, throwing a leg over mine and half-covering my torso with his. His weight, his heat, his lips moving over mine…oh, the sensations come rushing in. There is a pressure on my lips, then his tongue enters my mouth and strokes mine…strange, but very nice. My hands twist the soft material of the bedsheet as I feel and feel.

His lips move to my collarbone and then downward, even as his hands roam around on my body. I mewl softly when I feel his mouth latching on to my breast. My nipples are hard and aching and I wish he would pay them some attention. I grip his hair and moan, and he takes the hint and then one peak is in his mouth. He sucks hard even as his hips move over mine, his hardness grinding into my softness, one hand rubbing and squeezing the other breast…the sensations are unbearable, stretching my body taut like a string before it collapses with a pleasure I have never experienced before. Edward moves for a few seconds more, then stills completely. The frantic beat of his heart matches mine as he lowers himself slowly. None of us speaks while we try to bring our breath back to a somewhat normal level.

I realise there was sweat on my forehead when Edward takes off his nightshirt and wipes it gently, then does the same to his face. Suddenly I feel awkward. Sweating, really? How unlike a lady. And we had not even done _that_. I knew keeping the candle lit was a bad idea. What must he be thinking?

I turn my head reluctantly and steal a glance at him. To my surprise, he looks happy and…proud?

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Huh, he is still calling me sweetheart. Maybe I don't look _that_ terrible then.

"Honestly?"

He kisses my hair. "Always."

"I have never felt like this before. Like I have been shaken up, but then settled back in a better way."

His eyes widen. "You have never felt like this before?"

"Not quite," I answer shyly. His bare chest is distracting me. And my gown is all twisted here and there. I pull the upper half together and make an attempt to straighten the lower half. Edward understands, I suppose, for he pulls a thin quilt from the foot of the bed and covers us.

"Not quite," he repeats. "But something similar to this?"

"Something, yes, a good feeling," I agree, nodding. It should have pacified him, but instead he groaned, looking disappointed. "Edward, what is the matter?"

"I was an idiot then."

In the past? Because he couldn't make me feel like this? But it wasn't his responsibility!

"Why do you think that? A woman can't feel as good as a man does, after all." Or so I had heard in bits and pieces of gossip. He shakes his head and huffs, so I add, "It was only once that we…You shouldn't blame yourself."

Should I mention Anthony? He did ask me to be honest, didn't he?

"Even when Anthony and I were…" I pause, trying to find a word I am brave enough to say aloud. "…together, I didn't feel like this. So you see, it wasn't your fault that I…"

He laughs soundlessly through his nose. "Well, that is not much of a consolation to me. Bella, I am sorry that—"

A huge yawn escapes my mouth, and I cover it quickly with my hands. "Sorry," I mumble.

At least it makes him smile. "No, it's all right. We should go to sleep. I know James will be up early in the morning and expect me to join him for breakfast. I must not be late."

James!

"Um, but you did not…I mean, we did not…What if he asks you about _bedding_ me?"

His eyes narrow. "Then I will tell him to go toast his blooming eyebrows. It is none of his business what we do in the privacy of our bedroom."

Our bedroom. Anthony had never referred to my room as _our bedroom_.

The expression about James' eyebrows makes me laugh though. Like a reflection in the mirror, Edward's loses the frown, his face breaking out in a smile again.

I never knew I could make someone happy just by laughing.

He blows out the candle and returns to the bed. Meanwhile, I button my nightgown.

"Can I hold you?" he asks in a hesitant tone.

"Of course." That is something I have always liked. I missed it the most when Anthony stopped coming to my room.

He draws me closer, my back to his front, and kisses my cheek, my temple, and then my hair. It makes me feel safe, cherished. I go to sleep surrounded by his warmth.

* * *

 **A.N.** Toast his blooming eyebrows: A polite way of telling someone to go fuck himself.

'Huh' has been in use since 1608, in case you think it's too modern for this era. Yes, Bella wouldn't use it in company, but I think it is excusable here.

So, what do you think? :)


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you, my wonderful readers, for your enthusiasm and support!

Some people wondered why Edward didn't go all the way with Bella in the previous chapter. Well, Edward wishes to please Bella, to make her aware of the pleasure she can have as a woman before they reach that stage. And he is not going to let James run their married life either!

Heartfelt thanks to LovePotionsBrewer, my beta and friend, for taking time out of her busy life and making this story much, much better.

* * *

 **Chapter-7**

 **( Past )**

It had been four days since the wedding. The household had settled back into its daily routine. Anthony had formally introduced me to the forty or so staff members, and given me some suggestions on keeping the household records. The details I was to sort out with Mrs. Stanley.

My first meeting with her left me feeling rather unsettled. The housekeeper was polite, of course, but I could not shake off the feeling that she did not approve of me. What could be the reason? Did the staff members in these great houses believe in blue blood marrying blue blood like their masters? Except that Anthony very clearly did not believe in any such nonsense. He had already complimented me on my beauty, my speech, my deportment…In his eyes, I was pretty much perfect.

My mother had involved me in the running of our household since I was fourteen, so I wasn't a stranger to all that went into it. However, everything in my married life was bigger or _more_ , so naturally I had some doubts.

The estate was huge, and so was the manor house. I would probably never see all the rooms located in the three wings. I was not even supposed to. Managing the house was Mrs. Stanley's domain, as was the army of maids required to run everything smoothly.

At my parents' house, I had actually seen the scullery maid and exchanged a few words with her on occasion. Here I doubted I would ever come face-to-face with half of the women who cleaned, washed and cooked on a daily basis.

One would think that a handful of servants would be enough to serve a young couple with simple tastes, wouldn't one? But when I wondered aloud in front of Anthony, he patiently explained that very little of it was for our benefit. Of course we required clean linen and hot meals, but most of the tasks came into being because of his, or rather, _our_ status in the society.

"We have to be prepared, always," he said in his soft, musical voice as we sat in the sun room after the first meal of the day. "You already know that we host a Christmas Ball and a pageant on All Saints Day, but we have guests during summer too, to enjoy the country air. Then there are those who come as a party in the hunting season, for pheasants, foxes and other animals and birds. We maintain a full stable of well-bred horses and a pack of hunting dogs, mainly hounds and pointers. Renting and selling them earns us good revenue and gives employment to many people around here. For these reasons we must have sufficient staff at the house, to maintain the guest rooms and to feed however many people may be staying here. Even if we did not care for the income, all this is expected of us because of our position."

I must have looked rather dazed, for he smiled and patted my hand in a comforting manner. "Don't worry too much. The outdoor activities are managed by me and Jenks, the steward. Mister Stanley takes care of the guests' needs in the house. And you will find Mrs. Stanley to be very efficient where managing the maids and cooks is concerned. Your job as the lady of the house," he gave me another smile here, "is to make the guests feel welcome, keep the ladies entertained when the gentlemen are outdoors, and to maintain the household records. Give yourself a little time; I am sure you will have it pat very soon."

I wanted to do him proud, so I took his advice seriously. I met Mrs. Stanley almost daily and discussed the running of the household with her. I respected her suggestions and did not make any changes immediately, though I noted some down for the future. I studied the expenses thoroughly so I would not make a single mistake. I spoke with Anthony at mealtimes on his family's history, asking him to familiarise me with the important members in every generation. Finally, I sought information on the people who were regular guests at the mansion. I did not wish to seem an ignoramus country bumpkin in front of them.

After a few days had passed, Anthony proposed that I should learn riding.

"It is a good exercise, Isabella. I see you are immersing yourself in your duties and learning everything there is to learn about the household and the family, but that means you spend your whole day inside. It is equally important that you take care of yourself too, isn't it?"

"I am a little scared of horses," I admitted hesitantly. "They are so big and strong, and…I once saw a horse kick his groom. He almost flew through the air and landed so badly…he died. Even now the memory makes me shudder."

He nodded sympathetically. "Yes, accidents happen sometimes. But I promise you, horses are mostly very intelligent, loyal creatures. They just need to be trained well, and that is Edward's specialty."

"Edward?" I repeated, distracted. I had thought of him a few times, but since I had already accepted Anthony as my husband I just pushed those thoughts away. What was the use?

And what did I know about Edward? The attraction I had felt towards him must have been due to his good looks and his charming manners. It had to be completely superficial.

"Yes," answered Anthony, oblivious to my scattered thoughts. "Edward is in charge of all the horses of our stable. He has always had an affinity with them and been able to train a horse with any kind of temperament. Didn't he promise you to teach you riding when you met him the first time?"

"He did, but at that time I believed him to be you…"

Anthony shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Does that really matter now? He may have promised you, but it is _my_ wish that you learn to ride." He frowned. "Are you still miffed with him? Is that why you don't want him to teach you?"

I looked at him uncertainly. Was I still annoyed with Edward? I had forgiven Anthony, so why could I not forgive him?

Anthony sighed and steepled his hands under his chin. "Isabella, Edward is like a brother to me. He lied, yes, but he did it for my sake. Please forgive him? For me?"

I did not want Anthony to plead. He was an earl, for goodness sake!

"Of course I forgive him," I assured him with a smile. His expression lightened at once.

"Good," he said, rubbing his hands, and then bowed to me and swept his right arm in a half circle. "Let's not waste this beautiful, sunny day then. Shall we?"

I laughed, but followed him outside. He was right; it was a glorious day. The sky was a clear azure, the breeze a mere whisper; cool but not cold. I was blessed to be living in this beautiful countryside and not in some congested, smoky town.

The gardeners were busy weeding and trimming the grass, pruning the hedges and watering the many flowering shrubs in the front gardens. The head gardener came up to have a word with Anthony, who informed him that I was very much interested in the plants that we had. I was given carte blanche to examine them and add new ones if I so wished.

We took a narrow path to the left that led to the stables. The building was large, with wide, arched windows with glass panes, to let in plenty of light but keep out the chilly air during the cold days. As we approached the door, a mixed smell of horses and hay welcomed us.

The interior was as spacious as it appeared from outside. The stalls had plenty of room for their occupants. The hay was being changed in some stalls that were vacant of horses, whereas in others there were grooms rubbing down their charges with great care. We found Edward in one of those, chatting with a beautiful black stallion and feeding him a carrot.

"Ready for some exercise, Emmett? I bet you want to see Rosalie too, don't you? Today she will be the ride of the countess of Masen Estate, do you hear? You must have a word with her and ask her not to be temperamental, all right?"

I raised an eyebrow as Anthony smothered a laugh. "Uh, Edward, can you come out when your conversation is finished? Isabella is here."

Edward spun around so quickly that he almost lost his footing, grabbing the horse to keep himself upright. "B—Anthony, Lady Isabella, you are here!"

I bit my lip whereas Anthony let out a full, rich laugh. "I said I would bring Isabella so that you can teach her riding, didn't I? Although she might not be willing now, having seen you _talking_ with a horse!"

I must confess I had imagined our meeting to be awkward, even though I had forgiven Edward for his lie. But seeing him so flustered and so unlike his suave self put me at ease. Or perhaps he wasn't all that suave; perhaps I had only perceived him as such because of the title I had associated with his name. Now that I knew he was only a cousin, I could look at him without the glamour my mind had bestowed upon him that day.

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red. "It is just a habit I have got into, much like you talk with your favourite hound before going on a hunt. That doesn't mean you have lost your mind, does it?"

His tone turned teasing towards the end. I could see they were comfortable in their friendship.

"Yes, I give him orders," replied Anthony without missing a beat. "I do not hold a conversation with Brutus, informing him who my companions for the day might be and requesting him to speak with his team on my behalf."

Both of them laughed. Anthony put an arm around him and turned towards me.

"Isabella, once again I would like you to meet my cousin and dearest friend, Edward. And Edward, no need for the formality. I am sure Isabella will prefer it if you call her by her given name, no title. Isabella, you don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," I answered. Did I mind? Using the title would have been useful, perhaps, in keeping a little distance between us. But was it necessary? After all, I was devoted to my husband. Surely Edward's angelic face would not affect me anymore?

My face must not have betrayed my inner musings, for Anthony rubbed his hands and smiled cheerfully.

"Excellent, excellent," he commented. "I will take my leave then. Edward, take good care of her. Isabella, I will see you in the evening. I have some business at Forkton to be conducted."

Forkton was a charming little town a few miles away. Anthony had mentioned it before, saying that the people there made some fine wool. He was interested in establishing a small factory where the wool could be spun into yarn and then sent to London. It would give a nice boost to the economy of the town.

"You are not travelling alone, are you?" I asked. There had not been any reports of bandits recently, but they were still a danger. Only two years ago, a wealthy merchant from another town had been kidnapped on his way to London. His family had to pay a hefty ransom to get him back unharmed.

Anthony's eyes softened, as if he knew exactly what was going on in my mind. "Don't worry, I am taking Jasper with me. He is a very good shot. Also, travelling during the day is fairly safe. We will be back by eight at the latest. You enjoy your lesson, all right?"

He patted my shoulder, which was the most affection he could show outside our bedroom, I supposed. Then he left to pick up his satchel from the office.

When I looked back at Edward, I caught a strange expression on his face. Wistful, perhaps? But it was gone before I could decide exactly what it was.

"Why don't you step outside, and I will bring Rosalie and introduce you two?" he said with a smile. I nodded, feeling relieved. Horses may be magnificent animals, but the stable _smelled._

It was much better outside. In a few minutes Edward joined me with two horses, and I had to admit they were beautiful. The black stallion was Emmett, of course, and the pure white mare must be Rosalie, I thought. She had such a dainty look about her that I could almost imagine her toss her head and say, "What? You will ride _me_? How dare you think of such a thing?"

I shook my head. I had spent five minutes with Edward, and already I was imagining my horse to be able to talk.

I was properly introduced to the pair. Emmett was almost six years old whereas Rosalie was five. Edward had been taking care of them since their birth, and had begun training them quite early. However, he had been adamant that nobody would ride them before they turned five years of age.

"People don't understand that just because a horse looks big means it can be ridden," he commented, stroking Emmett's shiny coat. "Emmett is mine, so it wasn't a problem, but I had to explain so many times to the fine ladies who visit the estate that Rosalie was not ready. If it was up to them, they would have made her gallop at two!"

As if I knew anything about horses!

"I am assuming that would have been a bad thing?" I hedged a guess. He nodded vehemently.

"Oh yes," he agreed, his tone belying the passion behind his calm expression. "The bone structure of horses is not fully developed until they are four, sometimes five years of age. I know that race horses begin very early, but they retire early too, most of them with injuries and joint problems. Why should we spoil our horses just because some of our guests take a fancy to them? Waiting for a couple of years can be so beneficial in the long run!"

His eyes were sparkling when he finished. I was impressed by how much he cared for his charges, even though the guests would have paid well to ride them. Suddenly his talking with a mute beast did not seem so odd.

He encouraged me to stroke Rosalie's neck lightly. Tentatively, I did.

"Rosalie," he crooned, "you are ready now, aren't you? Lady Isabella is as new at this as you are; you can learn together, all right?"

Rosalie whinnied softly.

"Well, since I have already saddled her…" He bowed slightly and gestured to me to mount her, positioning his hand at the correct height.

I had seen women mounting a horse, and always wondered how confidently they managed to step into the man's hand. What if he failed to hold her weight?

"Are you sure—" I cleared my throat nervously as Edward looked expectantly at me. "Are you sure I am not too heavy…I mean, maybe I can use a stool instead? And don't I need a proper riding habit, and—"

He shook his head and smiled. "You are far from heavy, Isabella. I have been doing this for years, so trust me that I won't let you fall. As for a riding habit, it is not that different from your skirt. I am sure you can get some made if you like, but this is just the beginning. Mostly you will learn to sit in the saddle properly and communicate with your horse. The galloping will come much later."

"Rosalie is mine?" When Anthony had said a mare had been chosen for me, I hadn't thought she would belong to me.

"Of course she is," he assured me. "As soon as your parents approved of the marriage, Anthony decided that Rosalie would be exclusively yours, just as Emmett is mine and Alistair is Anthony's. Now will you give me your foot?"

I bit my lip and stepped into his hand, sending up a silent prayer that I would maintain my balance. "Hold the pommel; that's the upturned part of the saddle," he instructed as his other hand snaked around my waist and hoisted me up. "Easy there. Now hook your right knee like this."

Again he helped me, his touch as light as possible, as I settled in the side-saddle. He tucked my left foot in the stirrup.

"Feel better?"

I did, but then I made the mistake of looking down at him.

"It's a long way down." My voice sounded squeaky even to my own ears.

He chuckled.

"I had forgotten the first time on a horse can be somewhat…intimidating," he observed. "Don't worry, she won't move until you want her to."

"I wish women could ride sitting astride," I muttered, arranging my skirt so that it would cover my ankles. "And wear trousers instead of skirts."

Edward listened patiently, his lips twitching. When he was sure that I had a good seat, he handed the reins to me and helped me to loop them correctly around my fingers.

"Just hold them slightly loose. You don't want to hurt Rosalie, do you?"

"I wouldn't dare," I said cheekily. He shook his head and laughed. Then he mounted Emmett with a graceful jump and asked me to pull the reins just a little. When I did, Rosalie began to walk. Edward kept Emmett at the same steady pace.

"You will soon get the feel of it. Then you will know how much you need to pull or let go."

He taught me how to indicate to Rosalie to turn left and right, and to stop and start walking again. A few times he placed his hands over mine and guided me. His touch remained light, but it still affected me. When we reached a large paddock, he said he needed to let Emmett go for a bit, otherwise he wouldn't get enough exercise.

"Will you be all right?"

"Of course," I said, trying to sound confident.

In a moment they were off, galloping, while I stared open-mouthed. Edward riding Emmett was a thing of beauty, both of them looking so free and in perfect harmony with each other. It was like Emmett could read Edward's mind. I knew some people used a whip to make their horses run faster, but Edward didn't even have one with him. Legs tucked in and torso slightly bent forward, he almost hugged his horse as they sprinted in a wide circle. I continued to walk Rosalie, envious of the bond that they shared.

After Emmett had galloped around the grassy paddock to his heart's content, Edward joined me and asked if I wished to progress to a trot.

"I would like to go back, actually," I confessed. "I have had enough for today."

"Perhaps that would be for the best," he agreed. "I will exercise Rosalie afterwards or she will fidget the whole day."

"My back is aching," I said, wishing I could fidget and not fall.

"Oh yes, that happens with beginners. Your posture is excellent, but you have to relax a bit, you know? For your first day, you have done very well."

I could not help smiling at his praise. It was a relief to know that I hadn't made a fool of myself.

"Do you think I will learn to ride well by the time guests begin to arrive on the estate?"

His expression showed that he heard what I had left unsaid. "I am sure you will, my—Isabella. However, there is no need to push yourself for the sake of others. It is best to let things progress at your own pace. Look at riding as something you will enjoy in time; no need to worry what others might think."

Our eyes locked for a brief moment. I had a feeling that he was speaking not just of riding but of being Lady Isabella Masen too. How well he understood me!

We arrived back at the stable. I thanked him for the lesson, and he helped me dismount Rosalie. Again I felt the heat of his hands on my waist.

"You are welcome, Isabella." His breath was warm against my ear.

Why was I so conscious of this beautiful man who was not my husband?

* * *

 **A.N.** I hope this chapter has given you a lot of information about Bella's life with Anthony.

You have probably noticed that it was almost twice as long as a normal chapter, but I could not find a suitable break anywhere.

I will be writing my entry for the Age of Edward Contest, so the next chapter might be late. Please have patience. I promise I will try to be as quick as possible!


	9. Chapter 9

Hi friends!Sorry for the wait. It took me longer than planned to complete my entry for Age of Edward contest, and a few days to get my head back into this story.

I am grateful to LovePotionsBrewer for being my beta and sending me the corrected version back so quickly.

* * *

 **Chapter-8**

 **(Present)**

Spending the whole night wrapped up in Edward's arms is a wonderful experience. Anthony used to cuddle, but he always left some time during the night. No matter how early I woke up in the morning, he would be gone.

Edward is in no hurry to leave me, clearly. In fact, he is the one who wakes me up, dropping soft kisses on my face and neck, while his warm hands fondle my breasts and my belly. Sometime during the night my gown must have bunched up, for I can feel Edward's cloth-covered erection against my behind. When his finger slips inside my warmth, I moan.

"Edward, it is morning."

He smiles against my neck. "I know, my love."

"We should get up. Breakfast…uh, you said…"

He adds another finger, and the movement makes me lose the track of my thoughts. What did I want to say?

"There is time yet, Bella. It is too early right now. Meanwhile, I want to have the pleasure of pleasing you."

"But we are not…uh, supposed to do this in the morning, are we?"

He chuckles, the sound making the back of my neck vibrate. "We can do _this_ any time we want to, love. The only important thing is—do you like it?"

I want to lie, but evidently my mouth is not obeying my mind. It may have to do something with the heat spreading through my body, of course. His fingers, his lips and his hardness—all are combining to produce sensations that are making coherent thought impossible. I give up trying to voice my objections and lose myself to pleasure.

I must have slept, for when I open my eyes again, I become conscious of the warm weight of an arm across my front and the hardness of a bare chest against my back. Slow, even breaths lead me to believe that Edward is still asleep. Curious, I turn around to face him and study his features, taking advantage of his closed eyes.

Edward is beautiful. There is no other word for it. I had never noticed before how long his eyelashes are, but in sleep they brush his high cheekbones. His nose is not quite straight, yet it does not spoil the symmetry of his face. His hair, carefully brushed back during the day, falls over his forehead in an unruly fashion.

I have never had the opportunity of studying his face this well earlier. In fact, I never even had the chance of studying Anthony's face this well. When we were alone in my chamber, there was no light. And during the day when there was light, he was busy with his duties. We usually had breakfast and dinner together, but then there were always servants around. It would have been very awkward had I stared at him openly!

There is a slight scruff on Edward's cheeks. It tempts me to touch him. I want to know how it feels.

Cautiously I lift my hand and let my fingertips trail over the stubby hair. It feels rough, the same roughness that I had felt against my skin the previous night. Just recalling the sensations I had experienced while his lips were wrapped around my nipples makes me flush with pleasure.

Oh, his lips! They are unusually full for a man, but his strong jaw balances them nicely. Nobody can accuse Edward of having a feminine face, in spite of his beauty.

Unthinkingly, my fingers trace the outline of his lips, remembering how firm they are, but also soft. Kissing him is another pleasure I am learning to like rather quickly.

Suddenly his mouth opens and my finger is trapped between his teeth. I gasp sharply. His eyes are open and laughing at me.

"When did you—I thought you were asleep, my lord."

"I was," he answers, releasing my finger, "until your perusal of my lips woke me up from a most enjoyable dream."

"Oh, I am sorry." What could he have been dreaming of? Someone he had met in France?

He shakes his head. "Don't be. The reality was even more enjoyable. Exploring your body in a dream was nothing in comparison to seeing you in front of me in the flesh."

I blush again at his frankness. "Really?"

"Really, my darling. I dreamt of you more or less every night while I was in France. Sometimes you were a light shining in a dark forest and I would try to get close to you, only to lose you amidst the trees. In other dreams I would see you standing near the edge of a cliff and would run to save you, only to miss your hand by inches while you toppled backwards. There were a few where we would be riding together, or talking and laughing, or making sweet love." He sighed, his eyes serious. "Those were the most painful ones."

"Because they reminded you of the past?" However brief that past was, it was something I had thought about again and again while Edward was abroad and Anthony had become a stranger to me.

"No, because they always ended when I woke up, making me realise that you were far away from me. When I woke up just now, I thought it was another dream."

"So what made you realise it was not?"

His smile is somewhat teasing. "Your smell. In my dreams, I could never smell you."

"Oh." I am mortified. "I apologise, my lord. I will take a bath as soon as possible. I had not realised—" I try to sit so I can leave the bed.

To my surprise, he laughs and pulls me closer until my body is flush against his. "First, I asked you to call me Edward. And second, I love your smell." He runs his nose along my shoulder, ending up in my neck. The tickling sensation makes me giggle and squirm.

"Stop squirming, darling, or I will have to take matters in my own hands," he groans. It puzzles me until I feel him growing hard behind me.

"Oh," I say again. I am curious as to what exactly he means by taking matters in his own hands, but I am not sure I want to know.

"Um, I think we should rise, my—Edward," I suggest, catching myself in time. "The morning light is getting stronger. Soon it will be time for breakfast."

"Hmm, my Edward. I like that." His voice is a low murmur against my skin. Seductive, inviting.

"Edward, please let me go." I really do not want to face James' barbed words first thing in the morning.

"Call me my Edward again, and I will."

I can't help laughing. He is behaving like a child!

"My Edward."

He laughs too. It is a joyful sound.

"All right. Let us go face the ogre then." He sits up, and so do I. "Although, you can break your fast in the parlour, if you like. No need to see his unpleasant face if you can avoid it."

I make a face. "I would much prefer it, but I don't want you to face him alone either."

Strange as it seems, I already feel as if we are a team.

After Edward makes sure that I truly do not mind, he leaves me for his own chamber and bath. He also promises to ask Jasper to send Alice to me.

However, the moment he steps outside, Alice comes in. She must have been waiting for us to wake up.

Quickly she builds up the fire and arranges for my bath to be brought in. The hot water has rose petals floating in it, sending up a very pleasant fragrance. Once the maids have left, I disrobe and submerge myself in the water. Alice takes a washcloth, soaps it and cleans my back. She has offered to do my whole body many a times, but I refuse every time. The thought makes me uncomfortable.

While I do the rest, Alice washes my hair. This is something I enjoy. The sensation of her fingers on my scalp is so soothing.

My mind immediately goes back to the night I have spent with Edward, the words of love he bestowed upon me, the kisses his lips rained upon me, the caresses he—

"My lady, may I be bold enough to ask you something?"

Her voice brings me out of my dream-like state.

"Of course, Alice. What is it that you want to ask?"

She hesitates.

"You can ask me anything, Alice. I won't mind."

"My lady, are you happy?"

Well, I had not expected this.

"Yes, of course I am happy. Why do you ask?"

She pours a mix of diluted vinegar and rosemary tea on my hair, combing it with her fingers at the same time. It gives shine to the hair and adds a pleasant fragrance.

"It is nothing. I had never seen you smile by yourself, that is all."

"What do you mean, Alice?" I focus on removing the lather from my skin.

"During the years I have spent with you, I have seen you smile with happiness only when you are speaking with Miss Lizzie. You also smiled when you had guests in the house, but that was a different smile. After his lordship passed away, I thought you would never smile again; you were that sad." I indicate that I have finished my bath, and she helps me stand and wraps me in a large towel. Another, thinner towel goes around my hair.

When my skin is dry and I am sitting on a stool in a robe, Alice begins to brush my hair carefully. "My lady, I was not sure if this marriage was to your liking. But today, I saw you smile even though nobody was here to see it. You looked happy. And Lord Masen, when he came out of your room, was smiling too. It led me to believe that perhaps you are not unhappy in this marriage. That is why I asked you."

Soft as her words are, they fall upon me with the harshness of a deliberate taunt. I jerk my head and wince when the brush pulls at my hair.

"Do you think I should not be happy this soon, Alice?" My tone sounds curt even to my own ears.

Her eyes widen so she looks almost scared.

"No, of course not, my lady. I am glad that you are pleased with this marriage, truly I am!"

I worry that I reminded her of her previous mistress. I know that she was verbally abused by her, maybe physically too, though Alice hasn't said so in words.

Besides, it is not her fault. Anybody who sees me will wonder how I could weep broken-heartedly for Anthony for days, and then suddenly appear cheerful and smiling.

I am wondering too.

"It is all right, Alice. I know you did not mean anything like that." I say as gently as possible, and see her shoulders relax.

"Can you move near the fire, my lady?" she asks eagerly. "It will help your hair dry faster. Then I can pin it up. Would you like a few curls on the side?"

I agree, and we move closer to the fireplace. Alice gets busy with my hair while I debate whether I should join Edward and James for breakfast. However arrogant and pompous James might be, Anthony _was_ his son. He may have insisted on this wedding to secure the estate, but that does not mean he wants to see me looking happy.

What is wrong with me anyway? I have not spent a full day with Edward yet, and yet I am affected by him. Was my grief for Anthony a complete lie? Was I only afraid of spending my life alone, much as Edward's mother has?

Now that the uncertainty is over, now that I have a husband again, have I shed that grief like a snake sheds old skin? Am I that shallow?

I was sure that I was only doing my duty in marrying Edward. I had expected no pleasure to be gained, in my bed or out of it.

Either I was wrong in thinking that I had no feelings left for him, or I am wrong _now,_ in allowing myself to feel something for him. Which is it?

Is my heart changing because of his sweet words?

It is quite possible. For years there was nobody who would shower compliments upon me, call me sweetheart and tell me that he would do anything for me. On the contrary, I was as lonely in this mansion as I would have been had I lived in a dark forest. Yes, I had Lizzie, and I visited my parents occasionally, but they could not fill the void in my heart.

And now Edward is here, making his feelings clear for me, saying sweet things and bringing me the pleasure that I had not known before. It is making me a mite giddy.

Yet I must be careful of my behaviour in front of other people. I have a reputation to preserve, after all, the one Anthony was careful not to tarnish while he was alive.

With this resolve in my heart, I go to the dining hall. Edward and James are already there, though they have not begun eating. Indeed, it seems to me that they had been having a conversation not meant for my ears, for both of them stop speaking instantly. I keep a neutral expression as I greet them.

The meal is more or less a silent one, punctuated only by a yes or a no when the maids ask if they should serve more of a particular dish. I am glad when it is done and I can escape to my room.

Edward follows me, informing me that he and James are going to Forkton, to check how much progress there has been in the wool-making factory. They want to have a word with the people working there too, to assure them that their jobs are secure.

He leaves after a chaste kiss, whispering that he is looking forward to the night. However much I remind myself that I am only doing my duty, his words send a thrill through my body.

* * *

 **A.N. :** Please head over to the Age of Edward Contest 2015 and read and review the entries. Voting begins on the 10th of January!

There are more contests coming up as well. Straight Thru the Heart, Control Possess Seduce, and the Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey Cheaters Contest. If you are interested in entering in any of them, do go check the dates.

Happy New year!


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for reading, reviewing, questioning, theorizing...You are the best readers ever!

A big thank you to 2old4fanfic for sending a bunch of new readers in my direction. Welcome, new readers!

LovePotionsBrewer is my ever-patient beta. She makes this story so much better.

* * *

 **Chapter-9**

 **(Present)**

The day passes like any other day, and yet like no other.

I have been Lady Isabella Masen ever since I married Anthony, and the title remains the same after getting married to Edward. And yet everything is different.

As I go through my tasks of the day, such as checking the household records and paying the kitchen a visit with Mrs. Stanley, I keep on trying to figure out exactly what has changed. It is only when I pay my daily visit to Lizzie that I realise what has been in front of my eyes all the day.

The household is lighter somehow. There is a feeling of relief in the air, if not open cheeriness. The maids seem to be stepping more lightly, the footmen have been whistling cheerily, and the cook was actually clapping her hands and singing—a most uncommon occurrence in the kitchen. Does having a master to look up to again matter so much to them?

Of course the months since Anthony's demise have been particularly sombre. Still, I can't remember the last occasion when the atmosphere in the mansion has been this festive. Even when we had guests for a visit or the Christmas Ball, there was a certain formality with the proceedings, and the conversations around were bright but cold at the same time. The servants were kept so busy that they probably had no time to enjoy the goings-on. But today, a relatively normal day, they seem to be bursting with good cheer.

Why this realisation dawns upon me at the precise moment I enter my daughter's room, I can't say. All I know is that as soon as I see Lizzie's smiling little face, everything comes together and I know that Edward's return to the Masen Estate has made things better for everybody concerned.

Lizzie comes running, and I sweep her up in my arms and fill my senses with her—her sight, her smell and her soft warmth. With this little girl in my arms, I feel complete. Content.

She warbles sweetly, telling me that I looked pretty the day before and she liked having breakfast with all the _big people,_ while I try to come to terms with the fact that it has been only a day since I got married again. Somehow, it seems longer.

"Should I call Uncle Edward _Father_ now?"

The question jolts me back from my daydreaming. "What did you say, dear?" I ask, even though I am pretty sure of her question.

Patiently and sweetly, she repeats her question, but I still have no answer for her.

"Uhh…" I look around as if expecting someone to provide me the answer.

There is no protocol regarding this that I know of. Some children do address their stepfather as father or papa, but there are noblemen who prefer a more formal _sir_ or _your lordship._

"Why don't you ask your uncle what he would like, darling?" says Maggie. I smile at her with gratitude.

After confirming with me that it would be all right to ask Edward, Lizzie skips off to play with her dolls.

"His Lordship is very affectionate towards Miss Lizzie, my lady," remarks Maggie. "I am sure Miss Lizzie will not lack a father now that he is here."

I nod in agreement, even as a part of my heart argues that it should not be this easy for Lizzie to replace Anthony. I know that she was attached to him. How can she forget him so quickly? He will always remain her real father!

On the other hand, how can I not wish that she has a father's love and protection in her life? That would not be fair to her.

After a few minutes I kiss Lizzie on her cheeks and take my leave. I want to take a stroll in the garden, maybe go to the stable and talk with Rosalie. I have been neglecting her since Anthony's death turned my world upside down.

Yes, just like Edward talks with his horse, I talk with my mare. Well, I don't know if he does that still. It has been a long time since I last saw him petting Emmett, just before leaving. When he had announced to me that he was leaving for the continent, his face had been expressionless. But when I spied him shedding tears with his arms around Emmett's neck, I knew that he was not unaffected.

If he had not taken Emmett with him, I might have imagined that his grief was caused by the imminent separation from his horse.

As I had thought, Rosalie seems displeased with me. She keeps on turning her head away when I pat her. I apologise again and again, telling her what has been going on in my life. It takes at least half an hour for her to forgive me and accept a carrot from my hand.

I take her for a canter, and by the end of the ride she seems to have completely forgotten my misdemeanour. If only human beings could forgive and forget so easily!

After promising her that I will visit her regularly, I return to my room. I wash my face and arms and change my riding habit for another, more formal dress. Alice makes sure that my hair looks nice, and then leaves for the kitchen.

Dinner is less quiet than last evening, James being in a chatty mood in spite of Edward subtly plying him with wine. In fact, the alcohol only leads to his comments becoming more obnoxious. Perhaps it takes him a while to get into that somnolent state he was in last evening.

Towards the end of the meal, after he has lectured us on how to run a household and bring up children in the correct way, he says something that doesn't make any sense to me.

"Spare the rod and spoil the child, Edward. The only way to raise a well-behaved child is to punish him frequently. Mark my words, if I hadn't thrashed out your proclivity at fourteen, you would still be a gentleman of the back door. Even more probable, you would have gone to prison for being queer." He took another gulp of wine, his hand shaking a little. "Isabella, you should thank me for providing you with another fine husband. But for me, he would have been burnt at the stake for sodding some unsuspecting fellow. Now he is a real man, able to bed his wife and make her fruitful. I know it has only been one night—"

I will never know what James was going to say, for Edward slams his fist hard upon the table. The dessert plates rattle, the candelabra shakes and the remaining wine in James' glass ends up on his pristine white shirt.

"Enough!" Edward does not raise his voice, but his tone is deadly. "You are a guest here James, and you will respect me and my wife if you wish to remain so. In fact, you have already outlived your welcome. Ask your valet to pack your things, for you are leaving tomorrow morning. Now if you will excuse us, we are going to retire for the night."

Edward takes my arm and marches me to my room, leaving a red-faced James behind spluttering with indignation. I doubt if he has been treated this rudely by anybody in his whole life. It is a good thing that all the knives and forks have been removed from the table, or he might have thrown one at Edward. There are only dessert spoons remaining, and I doubt they can do much damage.

Inside my room, Edward lets go of my arm and begins to pace to the window and back to the door much like a caged tiger. I sit on my bed, my eyes following his movement. His colour is high and he is muttering to himself through clenched teeth. Honestly, he is scaring me a little.

"Why did I return from France?" he grumbles. "It would have been much better to live there, among friends. Coming back was a mistake!"

As much as I had convinced myself that Edward had returned only for the sake of the estate and the title, his words break my heart. Yes, he is angry with James, not with me. But it is clear that I mean nothing to him, that all the sweet words he spoke to me last night were just that; empty words. A loud sob escapes my throat even as I try to stifle it by placing my hand over my mouth. There is no stopping the tears that flow from my eyes either.

Edward stops pacing abruptly and stares at me. The next moment he is beside me on the bed, and his arms surround me as he pulls me to his chest.

"Bella, sweetheart, I am so sorry," he says as his hand strokes my back, trying to comfort me, I suppose. "I wanted to tell you—I would have told you everything in time. Please believe me, James is wrong. I love you and only you. Please don't cry. I can't see you crying!"

I do stop, but only because I am confused. What is he speaking of?

"What do you mean?" I ask, wiping my tears with a handkerchief and sniffling. He frowns slightly. "What did James mean anyway?"

"You don't know?" He looks puzzled now. "Then why were you crying?"

I twist my hands together. "Because you said that coming back here was a mistake, and that you should have stayed in France." A couple of tears make their way down my cheeks, and Edward gently wipes them, shaking his head. "You don't want to be with me, do you? You married me only because James asked you to."

He looks at me as if I had grown two heads. "Bella, you are the only reason I came back. Even if James had not asked me, I would have returned to you, to see if I could win you back. How can you think that I don't want you? Didn't I make it clear last night that I love you?"

"But you just said that—"

He smacks his forehead. "Oh, that was because of James. I meant that instead of accepting his offer, I should have approached you independently. I would have given you more time, of course, and after getting married we would have gone back to France. I have enough money of my own, Bella. I don't need the title or the property that comes with it to keep you as you are accustomed to. Maybe I could not have purchased a mansion, but—"

I silenced his rambling by putting a finger on his lips. "I don't need a mansion to be happy, Edward. Have you forgotten that my father is only a gentleman farmer? I was quite content under his roof. I would have been happy with you if I had been sure that you had married me for myself and not for being _Lady Isabella._ "

He is shaking his head, a small smile on his lips. "I can assure you that I have no interest in being a lord. I accepted James' proposal for two reasons. One, because I was afraid he would find someone else for you before I had a chance to win you. I wasn't sure if you would wait for me. We didn't part on the best of terms, after all." He paused, the saddest of expressions crossing his face.

"And the second?" I asked softly.

He sighed. "I wasn't sure if you would agree to come to France with me. It is a major change, and your whole family is here. I thought I could do something similar here once I was comfortable running the estate. There is the Royal Ascot, and thoroughbred horses are required by many who are a regular at those races. James disagrees, of course. He thinks it is beneath a lord to earn money by breeding and training horses."

The morning's tense atmosphere suddenly makes sense to me. "Was that why he was glaring at you when I went in for breakfast?"

He takes my hands in his warm, strong ones. It is such a comforting feeling. "Yes, but don't worry. He can't stop me from doing anything. He may have thought I would be his puppet, like Anthony, but I have my own mind and will make my own decisions. _He_ won't be running my life—our life—any longer."

As reassuring his statement is, it causes my forehead to wrinkle in thought. "Why do you think Anthony was his puppet? I know he deferred to James in some things, but that was because James had more experience than him. I may not know what is entailed in running an estate, but I do know that Anthony managed everything perfectly well. You must have heard the people of the village praising him for being considerate to their needs, haven't you?"

Edward half laughs and half huffs, his thumbs caressing my palms. It makes me feel as if tingles are racing from where he is touching me to my shoulders, maybe even to my stomach.

"Anthony was scared of his father, Bella. I have no doubt that he was managed the estate well and was good to the people, but that does not mean that…Anyway, I was talking about his life, not his managing skills. And I am not blaming Anthony. I was scared of James too. You don't know what a tyrant he was while growing up. Everything had to done exactly as he wanted, or there were consequences…"

He trails off, gazing somewhere in the distance. My mind goes back to the strange expressions James had used at the dinner table.

"So when he said that he thrashed your _proclivity_ out of you, he meant that he beat you because you had done something wrong?"

He nods. The pressure of his hands on mine increases.

"Edward," I ask slowly, dreading the answer because I am sure I won't like the answer, "What did he mean by _a gentleman of the back door_? And why would you have gone to the prison if he had not beaten you?"

* * *

 **A.N.** It has come to my notice that many readers are having difficulty in finding the contests I mentioned. So I am posting the links for all of them.

u/6939774/Age-of-Edward-Contest

u/6846034/ControlPossessSeduceContest

u/7375027/Straight-thru-the-Heart-Fics

u/7381264/cheaterscontest

If you are interested in participating in any of them, now is the time!

If you simply wish to read them, put them on alert.

Voting for Age of Edward is still open, so please go over, read the stories and review. Don't worry about which is mine, just show some love to the authors!

Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I love reading your theories.

One of you wanted to know how James knew that Edward had successfully _bedded_ Bella. Was he spying into there room? Uh, no. That was only an assumption.

At any rate, everybody agrees that James is a complete cad. :)

This chapter is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter-10**

 **(Present)**

For a moment I think Edward is not going to answer. He is not meeting my eyes, and his complexion has turned a deep shade of red. Once or twice he opens his mouth, but then he closes it without saying anything.

"Edward, you are scaring me. Please tell me what it is."

He looks up finally, his expression tortured.

"I don't want to lose you, Bella. After all these years…"

"You won't lose me," I assure him. "It is not as if you have killed someone!"

He exhales sharply even as the right side of his mouth rises and twists. "It would have been better, at least in James' eyes, if I had killed someone. He would have probably overlooked it as something to do with being hot-headed and young. But what I did…Bella, have you ever heard of men who like other men?"

I blink at this question? What did it have to do with anything?

He is looking at me earnestly though, so I collect my wits and answer. "Umm, I think most men like each-other, don't they? What does that matter?"

The tension around us breaks as he laughs quietly, shaking his head. "Oh my darling wife, I keep on forgetting how sheltered you have been. Why would _you_ know of such things?"

I am not sure if that is a good thing. Is he calling me ignorant?

As if he can read my mind, Edward becomes serious again. "I am not laughing at you, Bella. You are so good, so innocent. Sometimes I feel—no, I know that I do not deserve you. And yet…I can't stay away from you."

I look at him, perplexed with his rambling.

"Oh yes, to come back to your question," he murmurs. "I didn't mean liking someone just as a friend; I meant as a man likes—loves—makes love to a woman. It happens, sometimes. But our society considers it a crime, even a sin. It does happen, but nobody wants to talk about it. They would rather pretend that it does not exist."

I am sure my face is a picture of confusion. "Um, a man loving another man—like he would usually love a woman? No, you said _making love_ to another man like…but how is that possible? How would he— _where_ would he put his…" I nod towards his breeches. I may not have seen one, but I have certainly felt it. There is no way two of _them_ can do anything together. There should be something in which a man can put his tool, shouldn't there be?

His lips twitch. "That is what you want to know? You are not disgusted in any way? You don't think such a man would be on his way to hell for going against what is natural?"

"Uh, I am not sure," I say, biting my lip thoughtfully. "I know so little about men and women, so how can I decide if lovemaking between two men is right or wrong? I can't imagine how they would manage it though."

I wish I was one of those experienced ladies who knew everything about everything, or at least most things. I must sound pathetic to Edward after having met such women in France. But when I look at him, he only looks surprised and…relieved.

"Oh Bella, you amaze me with your open-mindedness," he says finally, smiling, happy. Just seeing him happy makes me feel warm all over. "I wish more people had your sense. Unfortunately, the majority of people believe that anything or anybody different from what they believe or practice is wrong or ill or even insane. I cannot tell you how much unhappiness this narrow-mindedness has led to, how many people have been destroyed…"

He pauses as if collecting himself, then pours himself a glass of water and drinks thirstily. When he faces me again, he seems calmer.

"Bella, James beat me because he found me being intimate with another boy."

I stare at him again. "Being intimate with? He—you like _boys_?"

"No!" He looks horrified. "I—it was only once! I swear!" Suddenly words begin to tumble out of him. "I was very young, only fourteen. A boy from the village used to come to the stable, to help me with the horses. He was perhaps seventeen. One day he asked me if I had any experience dabbing my tool. I didn't understand, so he offered to show me. While I—uh, was following his instructions, James walked in. I think he had an errand for me. When he saw us he shouted at us, and the other boy ran away. I couldn't, of course. Where would have I gone? He lectured me how I had the devil inside me, and then he took the whip to me."

I wince. Whipping a boy—his brother's son— he was supposed to care for? I had not expected that level of cruelty even from James.

Edward's expression is a reflection of mine. Or maybe his face is the picture, as he remembers the pain, and mine is the one in the mirror.

I don't realise when I put my arms around him and hug him. I want to comfort him. I want to make him forget him the pain James had inflicted upon him.

"I am sorry he whipped you," I say softly, but he hears. His arms encircle me, while his head resting upon my shoulder. For the second time this evening, tears escape unbidden from my eyes.

"Bella?" Edward raises his head and looks at me. With a smile so sad that it breaks my heart, he wipes away my tears. "Please don't cry. It was a long time ago."

"But he hurt you, Edward, for no fault of yours! Even if you—didn't you explain to him that you were just—oh, I am so furious! I wish he would die!"

Edward looks startled at my outburst. Truthfully, I am startled too. Except Liz, I have never felt this protective of anybody. But right now, I feel as if I can cheerfully poison James' wine, or set fire to his bed. What a brute! No wonder Anthony was scared of him.

"Did it take many days to heal?"

He nods slowly. And then he takes off his shirt and turns his back to me.

I gasp at the thin white lines that are visible even in the candle light. Unbidden, my fingers stroke them, feeling no difference from the rest of his skin. But I stop when Edward shudders.

"I am sorry. I should have known you wouldn't like me touching them."

He turns to face me, and he is smiling. My eyes are drawn to his shoulders and chest. He is not stocky like some men; all the same, his shoulders are wide and his torso muscular. For some reason it makes my mouth water, and I swallow hard.

I want to touch him, but…

"Your touch is always welcome, Bella," he murmurs, taking my hands and placing them on his chest. "Go on," he says encouragingly.

I take a deep breath and let my hands wander, up to his shoulders and down again. The light brown hair lightly scattered across his skin gives it a velvety texture. It is more concentrated towards the middle, making a rough line that disappears behind his breeches. As my fingers move left and right, I can feel the shift of muscles. As they reach his nipples, I hear his breath catch. I graze the tiny protrusions with my thumbs, feeling their hardness. Edward groans audibly.

But when I try to remove my hands, he puts his own on them, keeping them prisoner against his warm skin. Under my right hand, I feel his heart beat faster.

"Keep on touching me, Bella." His voice is thick, his tone half-pleading, half-commanding. For a moment he closes his eyes. "I have dreamt of you doing this so many times—without fear, without hesitation, without interruption."

As if to prove him wrong, there is a soft knock on the door. My first thought is that James has been foolish enough to come and disturb us. If so, Edward will probably strangle him with his own cravat.

Yes, James is pompous enough to wear a cravat to dinner, even when we don't have company.

"My lady?" A hesitant tone, not James' belligerent one.

It's Alice. She must have been waiting for me to call her so she can assist me with my nightly routine.

Edward's brows rise in disbelief even as his lips rise in a lopsided smile. He looks up as if asking the heavens if this is real.

"Send her away," he says with a nod towards the door.

I am tempted to do exactly that, but…

"I need her for a few minutes, Edward, to get ready for bed. Please."

He sighs but releases my hands. "I suppose I should go to my room as well, _for a few minutes_." He puts on his shirt but doesn't bother with the buttons. Then he leans forward and places a soft kiss on my lips. "I will see you very soon, my darling. And there better be no more interruptions during the night. I want you all to myself."

Leaving me a little dazed, he opens the door, nods to Alice and goes out.

* * *

 **A.N.** I know, it was shorter than usual. But this seemed to me the right place to stop. Next chapter will be up soon.

Have you voted for the Age of Edward contest yet? Please go to the page (link in the previous chapter), read the entries and review! Only two days left to vote!


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the delay. My brain was just not cooperating with the subject!

Not beta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-11**

Alice helps me take off the various layers of clothes and put on my nightgown. I brush my teeth and wash my hands and face.

She dabs a few drops of lavender oil on my wrists and neck. This is usually a part of my after-bath ritual in the morning, not something to be done before I go to bed. When I look at her in surprise, she just smiles.

Perhaps I smell a little like Rosalie at close quarters because of the riding I did? This will definitely help disguise that!

Finally she loosens my hair and brushes it with practised, gentle strokes while I sit on a padded stool in front of the full-length mirror.

"Should I braid it, my lady?" she asks. It is the usual practice, but sometimes I just like to leave it open. Even though it results in tangles the next morning.

"No, let it remain as it is for now," says Edward from the door.

I jump a bit, and so does Alice. None of us had noticed him entering the room.

He strides in, sure and graceful. When he is standing behind me, he holds out his hand to Alice. She looks at him in confusion.

"The brush, Alice." There is a hint of smile on his face, but Alice still become flustered and apologises. I ask her to leave us for the night, and she bows and wishes us a good night.

When the door shuts softly after her, Edward goes and bolts it. Hopefully nobody will come knocking and disturbing us tonight.

I stand, but he asks me to sit again. Then he begins to brush my hair a little hesitantly. I meet his eyes in the mirror and smile.

"Edward?"

"You have such long, beautiful hair, Bella. I have always wanted to stroke it." His fingers lift my hair and let it fall, again and again. "It feels like silk slipping through my fingers."

"Your fingers too feel good in my hair," I tell him shyly and sigh with content. "It is very soothing."

He keeps the brush aside and begins to massage my shoulders lightly. "Did you ever dream of me, Bella, while we were apart?"

I remember how he had confessed to dreaming of me every night while he was away. I don't have to think before I answer.

"No."

His hands become stiff on my shoulders. "So…you just forgot about me? Or did I never mean anything to you? What happened between us—was it nothing?"

His tone remains even, but I can detect the hurt hiding behind it. I stand up quickly and turn to face him. The stool skitters sideways with my jerky movement.

"No, no, that is not what I meant!" My hands are on his chest while his fall limply at his sides. I fist his shirt as I try to explain. "My dreams…they never had anybody—well, except Lizzy, sometimes—any person in them. There was only mist and darkness, even though I knew there was sun shining somewhere close by. There were no sounds either, and my feet—they seemed not to touch the ground." I shudder as I remember the strange, unnerving sensation. "It was as if I was moving in a place where there was nothing, as if I belonged nowhere, as if I wasn't going anywhere…"

My voice break as tears blind me. The next moment I am pulled close to him as his arms go around me, hugging me tightly. It is wonderful to be in his embrace, to feel his solid warmth against me, to know that he _cares._ Some part of me that had been frozen for years begins to thaw, like the spring sun melts the ice over a stream.

"I am so, so sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs into my hair while he rocks me, comforts me. "I never wanted this pain for you; I had never imagined it would come to this. This is my fault, I shouldn't have…Anthony—" His voice chokes on the last word, and he takes a deep breath.

I shake my head as I look up to him. "I don't want to delve in the past, Edward. Let us not talk about it. Let us rather build a beautiful future, all right?"

"But I want to—"

I place a finger on his lips. "You have already apologised, and I…I forgive you. Unlike you, I can't proclaim my love for you yet, but I think letting the past go is a step forward in the right direction. Isn't it?"

The frown on his forehead disappears. "Yes, it is. You are so wise, my darling."

I shake my head and look down, embarrassed. He gives me too much credit. My feelings are still mixed up, but my practical side says we have to do what is necessary. How can we live in the present if we have one foot in the past?

His hands settle on my shoulders. "May I kiss you?"

I don't hesitate. "Yes."

His head dips as mine lifts. One hand supports my head while the other goes to my back. Our lips touch, move back and touch again, this time more firmly. Edward sucks at my lower lip. I hesitate, then do the same to his upper. When his tongue exerts pressure, my mouth opens, and the sensations multiply. Finally he draws back, his eyes bright and his full lips redder than usual. Both of us are trying to catch our breath.

Without breaking the stare he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off. My eyes widen and my throat goes dry at the sight of his bare chest. Just like he had done before, he takes my hands and places them on his chest.

"I want you to want me, Bella. Don't think of me as a husband with marital rights, but a man who loves you and wishes to express his love through his body. Touch me."

Once again my hands move on his skin, but less tentatively. The warmth and the texture tempt my lips to join, so they do. Edward gasps, but remains still otherwise.

Encouraged by his gasp, I allow my hands to exert more pressure, then wander to his nipples and play with them, hoping for another groan. He does not disappoint me.

When I step closer so that my hands can explore his back, his arms come around me, his hands beginning their own exploration. It makes me press against him, every part of him. I feel his member poking me in the abdomen and try to draw back, but his hands move to my hips and press harder. When I look up, one hand goes behind my neck and holds me steady, while his lips capture mine in a long, leisurely kiss. I feel my nipples hardening, and there is a clenching in my stomach. Without thinking about it, I rise on my toes so that my hands can reach behind his head, where they tangle with his thick hair.

How long we press against each-other and kiss, I don't know. When we pull apart, our eyes stay connected.

"Can I take off your gown, Bella?" he whispers as his fingers stroke its neckline, his eyes so dark.

My eyes widen in answer. "All of it?" I squeak.

His lips twitch. "I did say I wanted to see you, didn't I? Yes, all of it."

When I hesitate, he leans closer so that our foreheads touch. "Bella, I want to kiss you all over your delectable body. How can I do that unless all your clothes are off?" His breath is warm on my face.

My limbs turn to jelly at his words. I have heard of seduction, but never experienced it. This, however, definitely qualifies as being seduced. What can I do but nod my yes?

Slowly he unbuttons the garment. When his hand enters the opening and squeezes my breast, I moan like a wanton woman. Then I remember that he wanted to hear my sounds—the sounds of my pleasure, he had remarked. It makes me feel better.

Slowly he slides the gown off my shoulders. Once my arms are free, he lets the gown go, and it pools at my feet. I am not wearing anything beneath it.

I had never imagined in my whole life that I could stand naked in front of a man, even if he was my husband. My first reaction is to hide myself from him, although it is a little difficult with only two hands!

But Edward doesn't allow me to feel diffident. One long finger below my chin lifts it so my eyes meet his. In them I find nothing but adoration, and his words confirm it.

"You are so exquisite, my darling," he murmurs. "Your beauty makes me think that you are descended from a goddess; surely a mere human cannot possess such a form. How was I fortunate enough to have you as my wife?"

I can't help smiling, "I assure you, it is only you who thinks so. Perhaps you are obsessed with me?"

"Of course I am," he says into my hair as he pulls me closer. He lifts me so that I am standing on his feet, then walks backward till we reach the bed. Alice has already turned the covers, so he sits on it with me straddling him. His hands on my back move up and down, settling on my hips. "I am obsessed with your face, your hair, your fragrance, the sound of your voice…but I am also obsessed with your heart." He starts dropping kisses everywhere, his words muffled on my skin. "One day, I hope to make it mine. But for now…"

His lips move to my breasts, kissing and sucking. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I just _have_ to move. The grinding action, encouraged by his hands directing my hips, makes me aware of a growing hardness in his pyjamas. I also feel a wetness between my legs.

After lavishing attention on my breasts, Edward comes back to my lips. Combined with the sensations running across my body, his kisses make me breathless. I feel almost faint, but also…more.

"Do you want me, Bella?" he pants in my ear.

"You are my husband—"

He cuts me off mid-sentence. "No, don't think of that. Not your duty, not my rights. Tell me, do _you_ want me to go further? Or should I stop here?"

Stop? Is he joking? I feel as I am on fire. It makes me shameless.

"No, please don't stop," I say, my voice thick and strange to my own ears. "Please, I want you. I want you now."

He smiles, eyes glittering like a big cat's in the dark. The next moment I am lying on the bed and Edward is taking off his pyjamas. Before I can see much of him, he is on top of me, kissing me again while his thing slides between my legs.

"You're wet," he says as if he has just received an unexpected gift. "You're ready…for me."

"Yes." His skin against mine, his weight, his warm breath…I feel as if I am going insane with want. I have never felt so…I don't even know what it is.

His hips move in a thrust, and I feel him entering me. It is only a little way in, but it feels so good. This is what I am burning up for.

When he draws out, I whimper with need. Why is he teasing me?

"I don't want to…hurt you," he says, his voice rough and his breath uneven. "I should be slow…give you a chance to adjust…"

"You won't hurt me," I manage to stutter. "Please, Edward…"

He is still careful, even though his expression is strained. He enters and withdraws again and again, each time filling me a little more than before. It is heaven and hell at the same time. I press on his back, encouraging him. Finally, _finally_ he is all the way in, completing me, filling the emptiness within me.

And then he stops.

"Edward…"

"Just give me…a minute…"

I don't understand why, but I nod. When his breath seems calmer, he begins to move again. But this time he withdraws only partially, then thrusts in fully. Slowly, his pace increases, his groans matching mine as I lift my hips in response. The fire inside me grows too, fed by the sensations coursing through my body, until it consumes me to the extent that there is nothing else in the world.

When I return from the state of blissful blankness, I find Edward smiling at me. It is a very satisfied smile, as if he is pleased with himself. I also notice that although he is supporting himself on his elbows, he hasn't…removed himself. There is a slight burning sensation where we are still joined. I stroke his face and feel the sweat on his forehead.

"Bella," he whispers, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I am floating on air," I whisper back. Then I touch my own forehead and cringe. "Ugh, I am sweaty."

"You look beautiful," he assures me. "It is a privilege to see you looking like this."

"Like what?"

"Glowing face, shining eyes, this satiated look…"

"And this pleases you?"

My question makes him smile. "You cannot imagine how much it pleases me, my love. I had never thought—"

I move my leg because it feels like it has gone to sleep, and Edward feels the movement. Suddenly he rolls away, apologising.

"I am so sorry, Bella. I didn't realise that—your poor legs! And here I was feeling proud of myself for making you feel good."

"It's all right, Edward," I interrupt him. "Even I did not realise that…um, until a few seconds ago. I feel cold now though…"

He pulls the eiderdown up so as to cover both of us and then pulls me close. With his arms around me and his heart beating slow and steady beneath me, I feel warm and safe.

However, there is something I must do before going to sleep.

"Edward, I should…I mean, we should wear something…"

I can't see his face, but I know he is smiling.

"Why? Are you still feeling cold?"

"No, but it feels strange not to wear anything while sleeping. I am not used to it."

He sighs. "If it really makes you uncomfortable, all right. As for me, it is the best feeling in the world to have your skin against mine."

I say nothing. He gets up and puts on his pyjamas, while I try not to stare. Now that he has asked me if I want to see him naked, I am curious. Then he picks up my gown and hands it to me. I slip it on rather awkwardly, clutching the duvet with one hand so that it does not slip down. Even though he has _seen_ me in the candlelight, I am not ready to be as frank as him.

Also, I have to go to the privy and clean myself. So when he goes to his room for a couple of minutes, I am grateful.

Walking is a little uncomfortable. Still, I hurry with my ablutions. I don't want him to notice my gait and ask questions. He was as careful as possible, I am sure. It is the long period of abstinence that is to blame for the ache in my body.

When he is back and we are in bed again, and he has gone to sleep after whispering sweet words in my ear, I remember that he never answered my questions.

I will ask him tomorrow. It seems we will be spending most of our nights together.

* * *

 **A.N.** So they finally consummated their marriage. Questions can wait, right? ;)

Thank you for the love you have shown to this story. I am very grateful!


	13. Chapter 13

Hi! I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I began writing three entries for separate contests, but none of them worked out. However, two of them have potential to be independent stories in the future, so it wasn't a complete waste of time.

It did take me away from this E&B, and it took me a few days to get my head back into their world. I have decided to stick to this until I complete it. Evidently, I am not one of those writers who can work on several stories at a time!

Thank you for your patience!

Not beta'ed. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter-12**

 **(Past)**

Days passed and turned into weeks. Spring gave way to long, balmy days of summer. Hundreds of flowers bloomed in our gardens, and the sweet smell of roses and lavender permeated the air, tempting me to wander outside more often.

I learnt more about the mansion and the estate, though most of my knowledge came from secondhand sources. Since Anthony had assured me that Mrs Stanley would continue dealing with the many maids in the household, I had little interaction with them. Any complaints I might have were to be conveyed to the housekeeper, who would chastise them as she deemed suitable. Not that I had any. Mrs Stanley evidently ran a tight ship as far as the household was concerned.

I did visit the kitchen once a day as I wished to speak with the cook directly. Also, I liked the kitchen as it was a cheerful, bustling place as opposed to the rest of the mansion. Even though Anthony was a gentle soul, he insisted that rules and etiquettes be followed everywhere, at all times. His father must have drilled it into him as a child.

I was brought up in a similar manner, but in the Masen household rules seemed to precede all else. Even though my parents had expected that my siblings and I follow the decorum in general, especially when we had guests, the atmosphere in our house remained light and genial. My father was not a man of many words, but we knew that he cared for our happiness, and my mother was so openly affectionate that there was never any doubt regarding her feelings.

Perhaps things were different in a noble household? How would I know? I had only read or heard about the grandeur of lords and ladies before I was propelled into this great household with every crystal chandelier and every gilt-sprinkled tapestry proclaiming its opulence. I did not even know if I could be the wife Anthony's status required.

But when I voiced my doubts to him one evening at dinner, conscious of a couple of servants standing only a few feet away and pretending to be deaf to any personal conversation, he brushed them aside very sweetly.

"Don't let this show of wealth intimidate you, Isabella," he said reassuringly. "As I explained to you earlier, it is all for the sake of our position in the society. This crystal and gold surrounding us, these silk and velvet garments we wear, and this retinue of servants at our behest—everything fulfils the purpose of upholding the rank of the Masen family in the eyes of others. It means nothing to me. _You_ are much more important to me than these inanimate objects gathered by my ancestors; never doubt that."

"But I feel like a fake sometimes," I murmured as softly as he had, trying to prevent the servants from overhearing us. "Will I ever be a real lady, like your wife should be?"

He smiled indulgently. "What does it mean to be a real lady? Is it one who was born the daughter of a lord, who appears in balls dripping with jewels and spends her life ruling the servants of her household? In my opinion, a lady is one who is kind and compassionate to everyone regardless of their station, who has a heart that goes out to the poor and the needy living under her husband's protection, and who does not judge people for being different. You are already more of a lady than half the titled dames I have met in my life. You don't _have to be_ anybody else, all right? Just be exactly as you are, and you will never go wrong."

He commenced eating his dessert while I gazed at him, my heart bursting with gratitude for having so understanding a husband. But there was still a doubt niggling at my mind.

"That is very generous praise, my lord," I said finally when he looked at me quizzically. "However, I am afraid that not everyone might be willing to share your opinion. What if the guests who come here to enjoy the summer and to hunt during the season find me lacking? It would pain me a great deal if they criticise you for going against the social norms by marrying a commoner?"

Anthony shook his head. "I wish it wouldn't, for I cannot change others people's opinions. However, if it causes you discomfort, I can ask them to abstain this year from visiting. By next season, perhaps you will be more used to your surroundings, and not bothered by their words. Is that agreeable with you?"

To say that I was amazed with his thoughtfulness would have been an understatement. Still, I gave the matter some thought while we finished our meal.

"My lord, I remember that these guests help provide employment to many people living nearby. I would not wish to take that away from them just because I might feel uncomfortable in their presence. Please, let the plans to visit and hunt remain as they used to be. I will do my best to make them feel welcome to the estate."

Anthony took my hand and kissed the back of it in a gallant manner. "Thank you, Isabella. You have eased my mind completely. Now, how is your riding progressing? I hope you are enjoying the lessons?"

Ah yes, the riding lessons. I was definitely enjoying them, perhaps more than I should.

It was not as if Edward and I had done anything improper. He was always very correct in his behaviour towards me, friendly but respectful. He touched me only while helping me sit on Rosalie or helping me down. Sometimes, he would take my foot and demonstrate how much pressure to exert on Rosalie's sides to make her turn, or change her pace from a walk to a trot, and from a trot to a canter. I had not progressed to galloping as yet.

He also showed me how to use my hands on the reins, how to keep my touch light but firm. All these touches were innocent in themselves. No, the fault lay not in Edward's actions, but his eyes.

More than once I had spied him glancing at me with such longing as had made me gasp with consternation. It was always for a brief moment, and clearly when he thought I was not aware of it. While we walked our horses side-by-side, speaking of the weather or the beauty of the countryside or something else, he was careful to maintain a neutral but friendly expression. But the few instances when I caught him unawares proved that it was a façade, that inside him some strong emotion swirled, the agitation peeking out from his eyes in those rare, unguarded moments. It made my heart ache with sadness, for I knew too well that nothing could come of it. I was married to his cousin. Not only that, but I also loved my husband. I could never do anything to betray the trust he had displayed in me.

And yet, was it only Edward's eyes that were at fault? Was it not my treacherous heart that beat a mite harder when he wished me good morning outside the stable, or when I felt the warmth of his hands on my waist while he helped me up on Rosalie? Was it not my face that glowed with warmth when he took my hand in his to teach me what to do with the reins? And did my insides not tingle with the closeness we shared when once he let me slide down slowly from my horse—holding me all the while—because I had complained of giddiness?

Apart from the physical attraction, there were also the long, leisurely conversations that we shared. I told him about my parents, my siblings, and my childhood. In return, he shared with me his past—or should I say, his past as well as Anthony's, for they had shared much of it. He also told me a few things he had come to know from his mother.

Edward's father, after whom he had been named, was younger brother to James, but they had never been close. James had always been ambitious, and also somewhat ruthless in the pursuit of wealth and power. On the other hand, Edward Senior was easy-going and kind. As James was the elder brother, he got the title and the majority of the property, which suited his ideas to live a life of luxury perfectly.

"Perhaps, if my father had been ambitious, he could have been rich," mused Edward as we sat on a grassy knoll near the stream that flowed through the woods bordering the estate. The horses had been exercised enough, so Edward had brought me a little way inside the woods, promising that I would like the spot. And I did—it was green and full of wildflowers and so quiet. The horses stood near the stream, drinking from it and nuzzling each other.

"So what was his profession?"

"He was a pastor for Forkton and a couple of nearby villages. My mother tells me that he was very good at his job and the people liked and respected him. They were not rich, but they were comfortable enough. More importantly, they were happy with what they had, and with each-other. Lord Masen didn't visit them often, and my parents were fine with that. He lived his life, and they lived theirs."

"So how did Anthony and you become so close?" I asked curiously.

He stretched out on the green grass and crossed his hands underneath his head. "You know that Anthony is nearly three years older to me?" When I nodded, he continued. "He has always been there for me, as far as I remember. He lost his mother when he was really little—not even two years old. And Lord Masen was always busy managing his business and travelling, so he requested my mother to keep an eye on him. He had a nurse of course, and Mrs Stanley too, but I suppose James thought a family member could be trusted more."

"That is understandable, I think," I agreed. "Also, Lord Masen does not seem to be the kind of man who would bother himself too much with a toddler."

Edward snorted. "That is an understatement. But you are right, he had no patience with a little boy. Most men don't, I think."

I was suddenly curious. "What about you, Edward? Would you keep your children at a distance like most noblemen do?"

He remained quiet for a minute, his expression thoughtful. "No," he said finally, "I don't think I will do that. I can't. My parents were quite affectionate towards me, even my father. Even if I was to be punished for some mischief, it was something mild, just to make me understand that actions have consequences."

Then he looked at me and gave a mischievous smile. "Also, you forget that I am not a lord, so why would I behave like one? But you are a lady now, Isabella. Will you be one of those mothers who meet their children once a day, expecting them to be proper and correct all the time, seen but not heard?"

"Is that what will be expected from me?" I enquired, disturbed by the thought of not seeing my child throughout the day. "I don't like that much. I would prefer to spend as much time as possible with my child, play with him, and sing a lullaby at bedtime…"

I stopped at the look of adoration on Edward's face. "It seems you have given some thought to the subject," he said softly. He sat up then, his face inches away from mine. "You will be a good mother, Isabella. I can picture you right now with a baby in your lap as you coo and smile at it."

The back of his fingers brushed my cheek, leaving me feeling warm all over. I knew my face must have turned pink.

"You blush so beautifully," he whispered, and suddenly my fingers itched to touch him. But as my hand rose, I was startled by a high-pitched whinny from Emmett.

I snatched my hand back and jumped up, arranging the skirts of my riding habit. "It is getting late. We should go."

I did not look at him as I climbed down the knoll and walked to Rosalie with hasty steps. I did not know what I would see in Edward's face if I turned, and I was not sure if I wanted to find out. What were we doing? How could I forget that I was married to someone else?

Edward followed me quietly. For the first time as he helped me up on my horse, I felt his hands shake. For the first time too, not a single word was spoken as we rode home.

-ATW-

At dinner that night, Anthony announced that our first guests for the summer were arriving the next day.

* * *

 **A.N.** Looks like we are going to have some excitement on the estate!


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you for your support. It means so much to me!

I have changed the surname Denali to Delaney, as it was the closest I could find in the 1800s British surnames list.

Unbeta'ed. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter-13**

Lord and Lady Delaney, and their daughter, Lady Katherine Delaney, were our first guests for the summer. They arrived the next morning just after breakfast, in a large and ornate-looking carriage drawn by four horses. Anthony and I welcomed them on the steps outside.

My first impression of them was that they were wearing too many clothes, considering the weather was quite balmy. I wondered how they had fit inside the carriage with all those furs and coats and shawls, even considering its size. It was a wonder one of them didn't get stuck in the doorway!

My guess was that they were in their late thirties or maybe early forties. Lord Delaney seemed an amicable sort of man, talking about their trip from London and the weather in a friendly manner. However, his wife was rather pompous. Also, she had a large nose that she loved to poke in everybody's business. When Anthony had informed me of their arrival, he had also admitted that Lady Delaney made him uncomfortable with her questions. I didn't really understand what he meant then, but after spending an hour with her, I understood very well.

In that one hour, she asked me about my parents, my aunt and uncle, what kind of house they had, how much they earned in a year, how many servants they had, and if they had ever been involved in a social scandal. The last question left me gaping like a fish!

Anthony tried to deflect as many questions as he could, asking her about the season at London, the balls they had attended, and the people they had met. However, as soon as he started discussing something with Lord Delaney, she turned to me with gleaming eyes and began her attack again.

"So tell me Isabella," she asked, dropping her voice as if we were best friends sharing a secret. "How did you manage to snare dear Anthony here? It must have taken a special effort to catch the attention of so eligible a bachelor, did it not? What charms of yours did you display for him?"

I stared at her in astonishment. Did she really expect me to answer such rude, intrusive questions?

"Oh, come on," she continued unabashed, "Anthony is not only an earl, he is also young and handsome. In the last two years, he has received numerous offers from families of title, but politely refused every single one of them. And then he went and married a farmer's daughter? Why would he do that?" Her eyes narrowed in speculation as she glanced at my stomach. "Did he get you with child? Is that how you trapped him into marrying you?"

"Of course not, my lady," I gasped out, outraged at her questions. I had expected some doubts over my suitability for Anthony, but nothing like this. "I had not even seen him before the wedding!"

My tone must have drawn Anthony's attention, even though I did not raise my voice. Both he and Lord Delaney looked at us inquisitively.

"Oh, it's nothing," shrugged Lady Delaney as if she had not just asked me a most insulting question. "I was just asking dear Isabella what spell she cast on you to get you to marry her, that is all. After all, you refused other, more suitable proposals, didn't you? I still remember the very polite refusal I received from you when I asked you to consider Kate as your wife!"

Anthony looked even more uncomfortable than I felt, his eyes darting here and there in the room before he replied that Kate was a child then, only sixteen. But Lady Delaney wasn't pacified with his answer.

"She is seventeen _now_. We could have waited a year or two, couldn't we?"

Lord Delaney cleared his throat, obviously feeling embarrassed with his wife's behaviour. "My lady, this is not the time or place—" he began, only to be cut off by his overbearing wife.

"Look, I am not saying Isabella is not pretty, because she is—very pretty. I don't understand why Anthony chose her for his _wife_ when he could have had her in some other manner. Being the wife of a lord requires more than looks, I would say. Anthony, what did you see in Isabella that you did not find in my daughter?"

God in heaven, this lady was insufferable! I should really have asked Anthony to ask them not to visit this year, or any other year.

Anthony opened his mouth, but before he could form the words, Edward swept in the room, smelling of fresh air and sunshine, and saved us from more discomfiture.

"Lord and Lady Delaney, what a pleasure to see you again!" he said with a charming smile as he bowed to them. He also greeted Kate, who had been sulking at the lack of attention while her mother dominated the conversation. When he kissed the back of her hand and complimented her on her looks, she blushed and stammered a thank you.

He then directed his charm towards the mother, who simpered like a young girl and claimed that Edward was a rogue, but a charming one.

I was relieved that he had diverted her attention so thoroughly, but strangely enough, I also felt a small spark of jealousy. I knew I was being silly. He was only my friend, and he was doing us a service by engaging the obnoxious lady in all sorts of talk. Still, I wished that I was the only woman he paid attention to, at least where it was a matter of paying them handsome compliments and bantering with them.

As if he felt my displeasure reaching him, he turned to me and smiled.

"Lady Isabella, will you be taking your regular riding lesson today? I was not sure if you will have time from welcoming your guests."

I almost jumped out of my chair at the opportunity to be away from my _guest_ , but controlled myself. I looked at Anthony, asking him silently if I should go.

He smiled and nodded. "Of course you should, Isabella. How will you gain confidence if you don't practice regularly? I am sure Lady Delaney wants to rest for a little while, don't you, my lady?"

The lady in question seemed conflicted, but finally agreed that she indeed needed to take a short nap before lunch. However, her daughter had no such need. Unfortunately.

"Can I come for a ride too, Edward? I remember you taught me well last year. Please?"

Edward glanced at me briefly, but I had no opinion in the matter. Or rather, I couldn't voice the one I had in mind. Even Anthony seemed to be taken aback.

"Are you sure you are not tired, Kate?" It was Lord Delaney who asked the question, but Kate quickly affirmed that she was not at all tired and would very much like to go for a ride.

Edward shrugged lightly. "In that case, you are welcome to join us. I will go and saddle the gelding that you preferred last year. It will take a few minutes."

Kate pouted like a toddler. "No, I want to ride Rosalie. Last year you said she was not ready, but she must be by now!"

Anthony tried to pacify her. "Rosalie belongs to Isabella, Kate. Also she is a little temperamental. You will be much better off with the gelding. Rusty, right? He is so sweet-tempered."

Lady Delaney's eyebrows climbed up in an impressive manner. "You gave Rosalie to _Isabella_? Had she even been on a horse before? Maybe she should begin with a pony!"

Anthony took a deep breath, visibly trying to check his temper. "Rosalie was always meant for my wife, my lady. And since Isabella is doing fine with her, I see no reason to not let her ride Rosalie. Kate, you might want to change your shoes for riding boots."

"Yes dear, your things must have been unpacked by now," crooned the mother. Then she stood up. "Let me see if Martha has done her job well and put your clothes away."

I was not sure if I should wait for them to return, but Edward said that Kate knew her way to the stables. "Rosalie is waiting for the carrot you feed her every morning," he reminded me. I took my leave of Anthony and Lord Delaney, and followed Edward.

Once we were away from the house he rolled his eyes and exhaled dramatically, making me laugh. "Always a trial, those two. They think the world revolves around them."

I raised my eyebrows, teasing him. "Oh, I don't know. Kate seems quite taken with you. I think she doesn't mind much that Anthony refused the proposal her mother sent to him."

Edward snorted quietly. "Now you are making fun of me, Isabella. Kate might think of me as a new toy, but she knows very well that I am not a lord, nor am I likely to be. Why would she want a poor man when her mother is sure to fix her wedding with some wealthy lord?"

"Edward," I said, shocked with the bitterness of his tone. "Why do you think like that? Even if you don't get the title, you are still a member of the Masen family. As for being poor, I don't think you are poor like a peasant, but if you really want to be rich, you can be. There must be _some_ way you can earn well, isn't there?"

He smiled without amusement, his lips twisting up on one side. "Perhaps I can be rich without being a lord. I will certainly try. But I don't know if that will be enough."

We had reached the stables by then, and Rosalie welcomed me with a whinny. Edward got a carrot from a basket and handed it to me so I could offer it to the impatient mare. At least I wasn't scared of her any longer!

"Enough for what, Edward?" I asked as Rosalie munched on her treat. I looked at him, but he didn't meet my eyes.

"For winning the heart of the lady I cherish and admire the most," he answered, his voice so low that I could barely make out the words.

I could have pretended that I did not understand him, but the truth was that I did; and it pained me. A heavy sigh escaped me.

"Edward, please…"

I wasn't sure what I could say, but I didn't need to. Both of us could see Kate rushing up the path, so we tried to smile and act as if everything was all right.

"I changed my shoes as quickly as possible," she panted, face flushed with her run and eyes sparkling. She really was quite attractive when she wasn't sulking, with her golden hair and bright blue eyes. "Mamma wanted me to change my dress as well, but I didn't want to make you wait…Oh, you haven't saddled Rusty yet. Where is he?"

Edward muttered that he would get him in a few minutes and disappeared inside. Kate turned towards Rosalie and began to admire her. She even managed to feed her a carrot while I talked to Rosalie, introducing her to Kate and telling her that she was a guest.

When Edward returned with a beautiful chestnut gelding, Kate greeted him happily. However, she didn't stop flirting with Edward.

When he offered his hand to her so that she could climb on Rusty, she giggled and clung to his shoulder, pretending to be unable to balance herself. Edward's lips tightened, but he said nothing.

As soon as both of us were on our horses, we trotted towards the paddock. Somehow Kate managed to keep her horse between us. Not that it would have mattered. In fact, her inane chatter helped fill the awkward silence between us.

While I progressed to a canter, Edward and Kate let their horses gallop. I couldn't help thinking that Kate didn't need Edward to teach her, even if she did the previous year.

Edward must have noticed it too, for he complimented her at the end of the ride.

"You ride really well, Kate. I don't think I have anything more to teach you. Maybe you should head back while I help Isabella for a little while. She hasn't learnt to gallop yet."

Kate immediately pouted again. "But Edward," she whined, "I _do_ have a lot to learn. I want to learn how to jump obstacles! Galloping is easy: I am sure Isabella can do it herself."

Edward opened his mouth to say something, but I spoke first. "It is all right, Edward. I am feeling a little tired anyway. Also, Kate is our guest. We should do everything to make her happy. You teach her whatever she wants. I will go back and take a nap before lunch."

"But how will you get down from Rosalie?"

"There are always grooms around the stable. I am sure one of them will be able to help me."

He looked unhappy, but nodded. And so I came back alone.

* * *

 **A.N.** So what do you think of Lady Delaney? Charming woman, isn't she? :P

What of Edward's bitterness? I must say, the passing of titles was a tricky business!

We will be back to the present in the next chapter.

Oh, I almost forgot! Do read 'Looks bad on paper' by wildlotus1. It's hilarious! The writer's wicked sense of humour had me rolling with laughter.

Here is the link: wwwdotfanfictiondotnet/s/11731175/1/Looks-bad-on-paper


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for your kind words! Though some readers were impatient to return to the present, the majority of you enjoyed knowing more of the past.

Lady Delaney was someone everybody loved to hate, no difference of opinion there!

Usually my guest reviewers are quite nice, but I had to delete a few reviews sent by one, they were so obnoxious. Please, if you don't like the story, don't read it. If you don't agree with the characters' actions, there is a mature way to express your opinion.

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-14**

 **( Present )**

There are no dreams to disturb my sleep, with Edward's arms surrounding me. There is, however, a dream-like interlude when his hands begin to explore my body. At first they are content touching me over my nightgown, but slowly they pull it up so that my legs are bare.

Edward must have taken off his pyjamas, for I feel his naked legs pressing into mine. Then his hands move under my gown, covering my breasts, squeezing them gently. Even though I can barely open my eyes, my breath quickens and I moan with pleasure.

"Bella." His breath is warm on my neck as he pushes his leg between mine, making me very conscious of the hardness of his member. "Are you feeling sore?"

"Sore?" I ask sleepily.

One of his hands move down, his fingers pointing out the part he means. "Here. Is there a…discomfort? Any kind of pain?"

I take a moment to answer. Pain? No. soreness? Yes.

But I also remember the pleasure associated with it. And as unlike a lady it may be, I want the pleasure again.

"I want you again," he says from behind me. "But only if you feel all right."

"I am a little sore," I admit. "But…I want you too."

His kiss on my neck is in the shape of a smile. "Are you sure? It is not an obligation."

I squirm against him, making him groan. "I know, and I am sure. You made me very happy, Edward."

"That is…good to know," he chuckles softly. His finger dips inside, moves and presses. It takes me only a few seconds to become wet.

"I want to try something new, all right? Lift your leg and hook your ankle behind mine."

The instruction puzzles me, but I comply with it. As soon as I do, however, I feel his hardness at my entrance. Is he going to…? I had no idea it could be done this way!

Evidently it can be, for a few thrusts of his hips result in all of his staff being sheathed inside me. I feel full, even more than when he took me before. With his arms around me, and his hands stroking and squeezing, I feel as if I am completely surrounded by him.

Once more he confirms that I am good with this, and then he begins a slow, rhythmic movement that has me thrusting back soon. Unlike the previous time, however, he does not speed up after a few minutes. Rather he moves one of his hands down and begins doing what he had done before to make me wet. Only this time it feels…much more, perhaps because I am already full of him.

His lips nip at my ear. His words encourage me to cry out when I scream his name. There is nothing in the world but these sensations, running up and down my body as our pace quickens and our breathing becomes panting. Finally, finally we stop, shuddering and clinging to each other. My name on his lips is a fervent call; his on mine is the trembling answer.

Slowly my breath returns to normal. Slowly, his arms loosen around me, and I turn to face him, even though I can't see him at all.

Combined with the fact that he didn't take off my gown completely, it could have reminded me of my experience with Anthony, but it does not, not a whit. Those times are as far removed from this present as the sky is from earth.

He peppers my face with kisses, chanting 'I love you' all the while. I giggle, realising I am sweaty but it doesn't bother me any more.

He situates my nightgown, pulls on his pyjamas and kisses me once more. I fall asleep with my head pillowed on his chest, his heartbeat a lullaby without words.

-ATW-

Waking up in the morning, I am conscious of three things: that I am alone, that my body is deliciously sore, and that there is too much daylight in the room.

These thoughts do not articulate themselves as soon as I open my eyes, of course. In fact, I am sure that I expected Edward's warmth around me in the brief time period between sleep and wakefulness. I may have pouted when I discovered that he had left the bed without waking me up.

But then the memories of the night come back, making me smile as well as blush. It is unbelievable that a single night has brought me so much pleasure. The years gone by were like a wasteland, so there is no comparison. But even before that, the little experience I had of the marital bed was nothing like this. Of course, I did not realise the blandness at that time, having nothing to compare.

Finally, the sunlight streaming through the open curtains makes me realise that I have woken up much later than I usually do. For a second I feel guilty for sleeping so much, but then I shrug it off. It is not as if there was any particular reason to get up early. It is only a self-imposed rule, and can be changed if required.

"My lady?" Alice's voice startles me. "Would you care for refreshments, or take a bath first?"

My stomach growls, making me realise that I am famished. But I still want to wash myself first of the night's activities. There is a different smell about me. Perhaps I smell a little like Edward?

"I will have a bath first, Alice."

She calls for the scullery maids to bring hot water, and soon the bath is ready. It is a relief to my aching muscles to slip inside the soothing water, scented with the oil of lavender. Alice washes my hair and rubs my back, and I moan as my lower muscles relax.

Who knew that lovemaking could make certain muscles ache so much?

Finally I am dressed in a robe and Alice is combing my hair dry in front of the fireplace.

"Where is Ed—my husband gone to, Alice? Do you know?"

She smiles as if she knows exactly how much I want to see Edward.

"Yes, my lady. Lord Edward was to see his uncle off after breakfast, and then he was to meet some farmers in the village. He said he will be back for lunch."

Ah, so James is gone. Good riddance!

I dress in a peach-coloured gown, matching my mood and the weather outside. I wish I could have Edward's company for breakfast, but I am hungry enough to do justice to the meal anyway.

After paying a visit to the kitchen, I go and find Rosalie in the stable. She is pleased to see me, and gracefully accepts a carrot from my hand. Once she is saddled properly, I take her for a canter in the paddock. With my muscles still aching sweetly, I don't feel like galloping.

Finally I stop and get down, with the intention of sitting on a bench near the fence. It is then I hear the sound of another horse's hooves. The sun is in my eyes as I try to figure out who is the rider, but then Rosalie lifts her head and gives a joyful whinny. It can only be Emmett then, and that means Edward.

I am smiling widely by the time Edward slides down from his horse. He leaves Emmett to graze with Rosalie, and wishes me a good morning, his smile matching mine.

"Did you sleep well, my lady?" There is a hint of mischief in his smile. It makes me blush.

"I did, my lord." I gather my courage and carry on boldly. "Our…um, _activities_ made me greatly tired. Though in the morning I wondered if they were a dream."

"Oh Bella." His eyes darken and he glances around quickly. Then he enfolds me in his arms and begins to drop kisses on my eyes, my nose and my cheeks. Finally he presses his lips to mine, and I feel as if I can breathe properly again. I don't resist even when his tongue enters my mouth and strokes mine. It doesn't bother me that it is day, and we are outside our house, in an open field where anybody can see us. All that I can think is that it is wonderful to be wanted so much, to feel so close to someone that being in his arms means feeling emotionally secure and forgetting the world. Finally he lets me go and looks at me with adoration written on his face.

"I missed you," he says, my hands still captured in his large ones.

"It has only been a few hours, my lord."

He shakes his head. "Edward. Nobody is listening to us here. And a few hours away from you is long enough to miss you, my darling."

His words, and the intensity in his voice makes me swallow before I can manage to say anything. "I missed you too. I just didn't want to say it because it sounded silly. But now that you have admitted it…"

We find a bench and settle down, with Edward's arm around my shoulders.

"Why didn't you wake me up in the morning?" I don't want to whine, but I suspect that's what I sound like.

He doesn't seem to mind though. He smiles and strokes my hair. Alice has pinned most of it up, but there are a few locks kissing my neck and shoulders.

"You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn't want to disturb you," he answers, his fingers twisting a strand of my hair and pulling it lightly, then letting it go. When they brush against my neck, shivers run down right to my toes.

"I wouldn't have minded." I pause to let the shivers pass so my voice wouldn't wobble. "So…James has left?"

Edward chuckles. "Yes. Let's hope we won't have to see him any time soon. He is turning into a megalomaniac. If he had even one subject, he would consider himself king!"

I look at him curiously. "You didn't say that to him, did you?"

He snorts. "Not in so many words, but I let him know that I was getting annoyed with his buffoonery and he would not be welcome here unless he mended his ways." My eyes widen as a corner of his mouth lifts up. "He was not exactly pleased."

"I can imagine. But Edward, if we antagonise him too much, he might take away your title."

"I don't care about that, sweetheart," he says seriously. "And he can't do that, in any case. I got a written document from him before I consented to take the charge for the estate. It has the king's seal on it. I knew James would try to keep me under his thumb."

"Oh." This changes things considerably. For years I complied with the instructions Anthony had given to me on behalf of James. I wonder if Edward will allow a few changes.

"I was wondering," I begin hesitantly, and Edward tilts his head towards me, giving me his full attention. "If we do not have to follow every rule set by James, may I go and see Lizzie more frequently?"

He looks surprised. Maybe he agrees with James in this—that children should be kept at a distance?

"I will not disturb her routine too much…" I add in a small voice.

But then he surprises _me_ with laughing and hugging me. "Oh Bella," he says, his chin resting on the top of my head, "you are so selfless. I thought you were going to ask for something _you_ wanted. Of course you may see Lizzie more during the day. In fact, you can see her whenever you want to; I am sure she will love that. Though I think it is a good idea to speak with Maggie first, as she has been in charge of Lizzie since she was little. What do you think?"

I am so happy with his answer, I want to get up and dance. Instead, I place my hands on his shoulders and kiss him full on the lips. I intended to make it quick, but he prolongs it, his hands on my back not allowing me to move back.

Both of us are beaming when we separate. "Thank you! I will speak with Maggie today itself. And I am not selfless—this _is_ for me. It will make me very happy!"

He shakes his head, clearly amused. "Would you like to go and see Lizzie right now? There is a little time yet for lunch, I think."

I actually scream a yes, I am that happy.

* * *

 **A.N.** Did any of you vote for the contests on ff? There were so many entries, especially for Straight Thru the Heart, it was very difficult to choose!

Bella's nights are going to be quite busy, don't you think so? ;)

Do you think changing Lizzie's schedule is okay, considering she is used to see her mother only once a day?


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you, my wonderful readers, for reading this story and encouraging me to write more. And a special thanks to **ceceprincess1217** , for saying the sex scene in the previous chapter was pure poetry. I can't think of a higher compliment, even if I probably don't deserve it.

Everyone agreed that Lizzie seeing more of her mother is a good thing. And James going away is indeed good riddance!

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-15**

Lizzie is just finishing her lunch when I step into her room, with Edward just behind me. Both she and Maggie look surprised to see us, but Lizzie is also plainly delighted. I ask her to have the last few bites and wash her hands, adding that I will wait. She nods obediently.

When she is done and her hands are clean, she climbs into my lap and begins to prattle about her new colouring book. It seems there are fairies and elves in it. She loves to make their clothes as colourful as possible.

Edward says little, but the look on his face makes it clear that he adores my little girl. After a few minutes, he raises his hand and strokes her hair. Lizzie turns towards him and frowns as if trying to remember something. Then she gives a bright smile and turns back to me.

"Mama, can I ask Uncle Edward now?"

Edward tilts his head, curious.

"Ask what, sweetheart?"

"If I can call him father now, because you are married to him?"

Oh, _that_. I had forgotten.

I look at Edward, uncertain as to his answer. If he is going to refuse, I hope he will do it gently.

He is smiling, but his eyes seem to be moist. When he catches me staring at him, he clears his throat.

"Would you like to call me father, Lizzie?"

She looks at him and nods, her innocent face full of hope. It breaks my heart a little. She must have missed Anthony more than I realised.

"Please do, then. Or you can call me papa, if you like."

Her smile is bright as the sun. Watching them smiling at each other, my eyes sting and a lump forms in my throat.

"Papa," she says shyly. Edward is pressing his lips, tears shimmering in his eyes. Then he looks at me and opens his arms.

"May I?"

I release my precious charge who steps closer to him and then looks at me as if asking permission. I encourage her with a nod and smile. She takes another step, and then Edward's arms are around her, his eyes closed as he savours the closeness.

I rise and indicate to Maggie that I want to speak with her. We move towards the window.

"Would you mind if I visit Lizzie more, Maggie?"

She looks rather surprised.

"Of course not, my lady. You are her mother!"

"Yes, but there has been a system for years because Anthony's father wanted it this way." I bite my lip thoughtfully. "Lizzie is used to it, and so are you. Are you certain it won't disturb her routine, or spoil her in any way?"

A soft smile spreads on her age-lined face. "My lady, I am sure that no child is spoilt by being close to their parents. And Miss Lizzie is so affectionate. She can only benefit from seeing you more often, so please don't worry about that. Maybe you can begin slowly, by visiting her just once more until she gets used to it? Then you can add one more, and so on."

I glance at Lizzie who is chattering nineteen to the dozen, with Edward being a captive audience, and agree with Maggie's wise words. Lizzie has never been a fussy child, but she has always been very open with her need for affection. The time I have spent with her consists my most precious memories. If she sees more of us, it can only do good to all of us.

We decide to schedule my additional visit after breakfast every day. Maggie suggest that Lizzie is old enough to have her own pony now, and that learning to ride it can be an activity she would enjoy sharing with me. We will see what time will be suitable for that.

-ATW-

Perhaps Edward's happiness is contagious, for lunch seems to be a merry affair to me. He compliments Mrs Stanley for the meal, and she smiles and answers that she remembered which dishes he liked as a boy. They are relatively simple—Potato salad, Pork chops with fried apples, and a Spotted Dick, lightly sweetened. We always have the choicest of wines at our table, no matter if we have any guests or not. But today we also have ginger beer, and that is what Edward is having.

He laughs, his eyes twinkling, and asks the housekeeper to convey his thanks to the cook for making everything.

"Did your lordship know that Miss Lizzie favours apple snow balls for dessert?" asked Mrs Stanley, and Edward looks up, surprised.

"Really?" He shakes his head and explains to me that they were what Anthony and he liked best as children.

"Perhaps taste in food too passes from parents to children, hmm? What about you, Isabella? What were your favourite foods when you were a child?"

I purse my lips, thinking. It has been years since I really thought about what dishes I liked and what I did not. Food was just a means to provide sustenance to my body, not something to be tasted and enjoyed.

"I rather liked the Potato and leeks soup," I say slowly, remembering. "Chicken baked in rice was good too. And in sweet things I preferred Kisses and Ice cream, and Almond cake that my mother baked. She insisted that the cook always baked it too much the second time." The memory brings a nostalgic smile to my lips. For a moment, the room around me fades away, and I am a child again, having lunch with my mother and my siblings. My father usually had a hearty breakfast and missed lunch, joining us for dinner in the evening.

I blink and find both Edward and Mrs Stanley looking at me. I shrug and smile sheepishly.

"You never mentioned these dishes before, my lady. I would have got them made for you," says Mrs Stanley. There is a gentleness in her usually stern voice that surprises me. Why would she care what dishes I like? Her attitude always made it clear that she found me lacking as Anthony's wife.

"It—it didn't seem important, Mrs Stanley," I answer, stumbling over my words a little. I am not used to such kindness, especially from her.

A flash of deep sympathy across her stolid features catches me by surprise, but it is gone before I can react in any way.

I look at Edward, and he is grimacing as if in pain. But then he takes a deep breath and tries to smile.

"If you have finished…" he pauses and clears his throat. "I have some work to do, but I would like to speak with you before that."

"Of course, my lord."

Inside my room, he hugs me close, murmuring apologies into my hair. When we separate, his eyes are sad.

"You have had such a wretched time in this mansion, haven't you darling? As much as I loved you, I didn't take care of you or made you happy."

"Well, I wasn't unhappy before you left, and how could you take care of me from across the Channel?

"I shouldn't have left you."

"You didn't have an option, did you? After Anthony found us…"

He groans. "Stupid, stupid decisions…I was such a moron!"

"Edward, stop it." I put a finger on his lips. "What is done is done. What is the use of feeling guilty now?"

He exhales heavily. "You are right, of course. I should attend to the present. Thank heavens that I have another chance with you. I will…I will ask Mrs Stanley to make your favourite dishes tomorrow. That is, if she has not already planned to do so!"

My forehead scrunches in confusion. "That was strange, seeing her so…kind."

"She isn't all bad, you know, just a little too serious," says Edward. "She took good care of us when we were just boys. Once she even allowed us to hide in the kitchen when James was looking for us to punish us. He was stomping mad!"

He chuckles, remembering. Then he raises an eyebrow. "I guess I can give you one of your favourite things right now, hmm?"

"And what is that?" I ask, loving the look of mischief on his face.

He dips his head so that his lips almost touch mine. "Kisses," he answers before pressing them to mine, again and again as I giggle with delight.

* * *

 **A.N.** Spotted Dick: A spongy steamed pudding made of suet and currants and served with custard. The 'dick' comes from an old English word for pudding— _puddick._ What did _you_ think it was?

Kisses: Baked treats, made of egg white, powdered sugar and the essence of lemon.

Short chapter, but I needed a break. Next one will be up on Sunday. Promise!


	17. Chapter 17

You people are the sweetest! Everybody liked how Edward reacted to Lizzie's request, and how caring he is towards Bella.

 **Milk40** made me laugh with her review, saying all the talk about food made her hungry. :)

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-16**

Edward is busy in his office the whole afternoon, even having his tea there with a visitor. I keep myself busy with sundry tasks, and then I read a book. Somehow, time is passing more slowly than it used to, and my need to see Edward is increasing with every movement of the clock's hand. By the time I am dressed for dinner, I have some idea of what Edward meant by saying he missed me in the morning.

It is not as if I want to discuss anything specific with him. No, that's not true. There _is_ something I am dying to ask him—several questions, in fact—but mostly I just want to see him. His smile, the way he raises an eyebrow while asking me a question, the sound of his soft chuckle, everything draws me in. I want to see him, hear him, and touch him. Simply put, I am craving his company.

I have always dressed for dinner carefully as it is expected from me. But this evening I want to look my best for Edward. I choose a deep rose gown; Alice says it brings colour to my cheeks and makes my eyes sparkle. She might be biased, however.

I enter the dining room to find Edward in conversation with Mr Stanley. But it seems he hears my footsteps, for he pauses and turns around immediately. My favourite smile lights up his face, and I smile back shyly. He nods to the butler and proceeds to meet me half-way to the dining table, taking my hand in his and pressing a kiss on the back of it.

"Isabella, how do you grow more beautiful every time I see you?" he murmurs against my skin, raising goosebumps on my arms. "In the morning you reminded me of Aurora, the goddess of dawn, but now you look as regal as Juno. I feel as if you should be holding court over us mere mortals."

My cheeks feel extraordinarily warm, but I manage to answer him. "If I look like Juno, my lord must be Jupitar, mustn't he?"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, and then throws back his head and laughs loudly. The two maids entering the room with large trays in their hands look at us and smile.

Not too long ago, I would have construed the smiles as sarcastic, but today I see only warmth and happiness. Being happy has certainly changed my perception of others!

Mrs Stanley joins her husband, who is pouring wine for us. To my astonishment, Edward asks her about her daughters, Jessie and Amy, and she beams while telling him how well they are doing in their life.

I didn't even know the Stanleys had any children. It just shows how absorbed I have been in my misery all these years. Granted, none of them had shown to me the openness they display in front of Edward, but I should have made _some_ effort to know them.

The meal proceeds cheerfully, with Edward telling us about his day and his plans for the estate. He is going to invite two young men who had assisted him in the training of horses while he was in France. Obviously he doesn't have as much time as he had then, so while he will supervise the training and choose the horses going for the Derby, the assistants will be the ones doing the daily training.

"We will also recruit boys from nearby villages and towns," he says, his voice strong with enthusiasm. "Besides selling horses, I am also thinking of racing them, and that means we will need our own jockeys. Why not look among the local boys and see if some of them are interested in being trained for this profession?"

All of us agree that it is a good plan. Mr Stanley even suggests a few families who have boys in the required age group and are looking for some kind of occupation for them. Edward says he will interview them and decide who will be most suitable for which kind of job. Clearly we will need more stablehands too. In fact, we might need a new stable!

When the meal is over, we thank the Stanleys and the kitchen staff, and retire to our rooms to wash and change for the night.

While we were having dinner and speaking on various subjects, my mind was focussed on them. I was also thinking that the large dining room did not seem as cold and uninviting as it used to before. But now that Alice is helping me undress and put on a nightgown, I suddenly realise that we are going to be alone for the whole night.

The very thought makes my heart race and my cheeks flush. I bite my lower lip so as to suppress the smile that is threatening to break and make me look like a lovesick fool.

Not that I love Edward; it's too soon for that. But I like this new Edward, with his strength of purpose and decisive manner. Combined with the gentleness he shows towards me and my daughter, he is almost irresistible.

Alice has barely begun brushing my hair when Edward enters my room. Perhaps he too has a need to be alone with me?

Just like last night, he holds out his hand for the brush, only this time Alice knows what he expects. She hands it to him with a smile and a good night to both of us. Edward makes sure to bolt and lock the door after her.

Carefully he brushes my hair, stroking it with his long fingers, then moving them to my neck and caresses the skin there. His touch makes me squirm and giggle.

"Are you ticklish here, Bella?" He asks, his smile full of mischief.

"I—I don't know, my lord. I haven't been tickled here before." I move my shoulders so as to avoid his fingers, but they only move to my back, tickling me even more.

He laughs. "Is that so? Well, I think we should rectify that. Everybody should know where they tickle most, shouldn't they?"

He puts the brush aside and starts exploring my torso, and I stand and then try to run away. It is useless, of course, as he doesn't let me move an inch. So I do what any smart woman would do and join the fun, attacking him with my fingers wherever possible.

His arms are impervious to my fingertips, but then I discover that his chest and stomach are not, and focus my attention there. This time he runs and I chase him, and we end up on the bed, laughing uncontrollably. I hope there are no servants nearby; they will think we have lost our minds.

Edward has captured my hands in his, and we are trying to get our breath back. My head is resting on his chest. I feel utterly content.

"Don't you want to see if any other part of me is ticklish, my lovely vixen?"

I smile. "Your feet? If you loosen my hands, I will try."

He laughs soundlessly. "I was thinking something a little above them."

"Hmm, the back of your knees? Many people are ticklish there."

"More…to the north." To make his meaning clear, he places my hands on the right part. Even through his pyjamas, I can feel it reaching for my hands.

"Your staff?" I gasp. "Surely that can't be ticklish!"

"Well," he drags out the end of the word, "nobody has tickled me there, so I don't know. Why don't you find out?"

I lift my head and look at him, and his smile is so naughty. His hands over mine move them, rubbing his _thing_ through the fine cotton.

"You want me to touch you there? I thought men considered it too precious to let their wives touch it!"

He chuckles heartily. "Oh Bella, believe me, men allow women to do a lot of things to their _staff_. In fact, they want them to, very much."

"Really?" This is fascinating information. Some lady this or that had once imparted a few pearls of wisdom to me after she had had a few glasses of wine. One of them was that I should never touch my husband's _generating tool_ , since it is meant only for furthering the noble lineage of the man.

Maybe her husband was ticklish there and didn't want her to know?

"Really." He lets my hands go and fumbles with the drawstring, finally loosening it and sitting up to take his pyjamas off. Then his shirt is gone too, and I am looking at my fully naked husband, my mouth open with astonishment.

He snickers when he sees my wide eyes fixed on _that_ part of him. It does resemble a staff, I suppose, only shorter and less straight. The head is bulbous and reddish, and seems slightly wet at the top.

"Well? What is your opinion?"

"Umm, it's…nice?"

"Nice?" His eyebrows rise considerably.

"I mean to say…it's crooked, but I suppose that's normal…" I stop, unsure what to say. What does he expect me to say, anyway? I can't say it's pretty like his eyes or perfect like his jaw!

More snickering. "Why don't you touch it?"

Tentatively, I extend my hand and give the lower part a gentle pat. To my consternation, it bobs, and I snatch my hand back with a scream.

Edward rolls around in the bed, laughing his head off.

"Stop laughing!"

"I can't help it," he gasps through the guffaws. "The expression on your face—as if it had bitten you!"

Annoyed with his smugness, I reach again and hold the whole thing in my hand; well, as much as I can. For the first time I wonder how it fit inside me last night.

At least it makes him stop laughing. Curious to see how hard it is, I squeeze it, and Edward groans. But when I let it go, worried I might have hurt him, he shakes his head and asks me to do that again.

"Move your hand up and down," he instructs, and I comply. "Yes, just like that…a little more pressure…ahhh..."

"This feels good to you?"

"Very good."

"You are not worried I might damage your staff?"

He gives me an intense look through half-closed eyes. "Bella, you are the queen of my heart. I think my _staff_ is safe in your hands. In fact, it belongs to you as much as I do."

"You belong to me?" My voice is full of wonder.

"Um-hmm. The same way you belong to me, my darling."

His words make me swallow hard. How does he think of these things?

Suddenly he sits up and tugs on my nightgown.

"Take it off, Bella. I want to play with your breasts."

His frankness makes me blush. He is so comfortable with his body. I wish I wasn't so conscious of mine, but the lessons I have learnt right from childhood insist that I should always keep my body covered. When I grew up, the only change was that I must let my husband do whatever he pleases, to assure that we have children. The deed was to be done in the dark, and nothing was said about _playing_ with any part of our bodies.

I take off my gown and let it drop on the floor. Edward pulls me closer so that I am straddling his lap, with his member poking at my lady-parts. As he kisses me, his hands are busy fondling my breasts, and I begin to squirm again. It makes the tip of his staff rub against my kitty, producing strange sensations. I moan, loudly.

Edward stops kissing me and looks at me, his eyes hooded and his breath hot on my face. One of his fingers slips between us and enters me, searching for something. When I gasp and moan, he adds a second finger and begins rubbing in earnest. I clutch at his hair as I try to move away, the sensations flying across my body, but it only results in my breasts being right in front of him. Immediately he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks, and in a few seconds I am screaming his name, my whole body jolting with pleasure.

When I raise my head from his shoulder where it has been resting while recovering from the jelly-like state, I find him beaming at me.

"Was it good for you?"

I nod, unable to find the right words. Then I feel the hardness below me.

"You are still…"

He laughs softly. "Yes."

"Don't you want to do something about that?"

"I wanted to give you a few minutes. Can you lift your hips a bit? That's it." He moves me a bit so that I am directly above his stiff member. "Now, sit down."

I look at him in confusion. "How…"

He shakes his head. "It's all right. Just lower yourself gradually. Wiggle your hips if necessary."

I follow his instructions, his hands helping me, and feel him entering me, slowly. The sensation is exquisite, and I close my eyes and let myself just…feel.

When I open my eyes, I meet his intense stare.

"Very good, Bella. Now move up and down."

I do, supporting myself by holding his shoulders. With every push and pull I feel new sensations invade my body. Gradually I get into a rhythm, and he joins me by lifting his hips in time to match my movements.

I had imagined that I had received the greatest pleasure from his fingers, but this is…more. The hardness inside me, the friction between our bodies, my breasts rubbing against his chest…

Faster and faster…our sounds and sighs…my eyes close as my body thrills with pleasure again. Seconds later, I feel Edward go rigid as he sighs my name, and then he relaxes and lies back, with me draped over him. Somehow he manages to cover us. But when I try to move, his arms cage me and he commands me to stay as I am.

It feels utterly shameless to remain naked and connected after everything is over, but I am too tired to argue. And so I drift to sleep, promising myself that I will wake up soon and get my nightgown.

* * *

 **A.N.** And of course she forgot about the questions she wanted to ask him. Can't blame her though, can we?

All credit goes to **Lotus Wright** for making the conversation regarding the p-word funnier than I had initially planned. She insisted that Bella not find it pretty!


	18. Chapter 18

Welcome, new readers! And thank you, all of you, for reading and reviewing. This is what keeps me going!

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-17**

When I wake up the next morning, I can't meet Edward's eyes.

Not only I had gone to sleep unclothed, but our proximity had led to a repetition of the pleasurable activities that we had engaged in before going to sleep. Even more embarrassing is the fact that this time I was the one who initiated them.

Truthfully, I had no idea that I had done anything until Edward had groaned and muttered something like, "Bella, you are not going to get any rest if you keep on rubbing against me." This was followed by slow kisses, soft nips and eventually the slip-and-slide movement that I was becoming familiar with. Sweet words of love and tenderness were punctuated with our breaths mingling and rising in unison, and then our bodies seemed to be falling, sinking in an ocean of mutual pleasure. When we separated, he held me close and murmured a thank you in my ear. Half-asleep by then, I had not paid much attention to that.

In the bright morning light however, the memory of his words cause my cheeks to heat up as soon as my eyes open and I see him looking at me. There is a lazy smile on his full lips and his eyes are shining. He looks not only happy, but also very pleased.

I also realise that I am still not wearing anything. Granted, both of us are covered with the quilt, but I feel as if he can still see me. Can we see someone through our skin? The way his hand is moving under the quilt, it seems as if he can see every inch of my body.

When I refuse to meet his eyes, he tries to make me look at him by lifting my chin with his forefinger.

"Bella," his voice washes over me like dark honey. "Sweetheart, what is the matter? Have I displeased you in any way?"

That makes me look up in a hurry. "No, of course not, my—Edward. I am just embarrassed by my boldness."

He does not remark on my stumble, though his lips lifting in a crooked smile say that he noticed it. "Boldness? I presume you mean the way you approached me last night?"

When I nod, he continues, an eyebrow raised in question. "Well, why would you feel embarrassed over it? I would say it led to a very enjoyable experience, did it not?"

My face feels as if it's on fire. "Uh, yes," I manage before clearing my throat and speaking in a hurry. "But I wasn't supposed to do…whatever I did. I didn't even know—I was asleep when—ugh!" And I hide my face in my hands in frustration. Why can't I explain myself clearly?

I am sure he is going to laugh at my clumsy explanation, so I am surprised when all I hear is a quiet sigh. It encourages me to peek through my fingers.

"Oh my love," he murmurs, gently removing my hands from my face. "Why do you think that you should not have done that? Is it because a woman is not supposed to enjoy physical intimacy, let alone initiate it?"

"Is that not true?" I ask in a small voice.

He shakes his head. "Not at all. I do not understand these double standards. Why are men supposed to enjoy sex but not women? Why is it considered a woman's _duty_ to have sex with her husband only for the purpose of procreation? Why is being a lady synonymous with barely enduring the attentions of her husband? Bella, sex is a part of love, a way of showing the other person how much he or she is loved and adored. When you touch me, kiss me and allow me to be close to you physically, you are telling me that you trust me. Is that not so?"

I blink at him, trying to take in his words. I had never heard the word _sex_ so many times in my whole life, let alone in a single conversation.

I also hope that he does not expect me to have all the answers to his questions. How would I know why are there different rules for men and women? I did not make them!

So I answer the one question that is possible for me. "Yes Edward," I say, stroking his cheek, "I trust you."

And I do. I may not have been a part of his life for more than five years, but I know that since he has returned, he has done only good for the estate and the people around. In every word and action of his, he has shown how much he cares for me and my daughter. His presence has made the mansion cheerful and the servants happy because they know their jobs are secure, and also because he treats them well.

When he had returned, I had been weighed under grief and guilt. I had imagined the worst about him, that he was back only to take what had rightfully belonged to Anthony—the estate, and me. I had thought him to be overconfident and callous, but he has proved me wrong in every way.

The guilt of betraying Anthony still pulls down my spirits sometimes, but I am learning to live again, to stop seeing the world as a dark, dismal place and to begin enjoying the colours. And I have Edward to thank for that.

So yes, I trust him.

He calms down somewhat. "And did I not say that I belong to you, as much as you belong to me?"

"You did."

"Then you have every right to approach me and let me know when you want to have me." He smiles when I open my mouth. "Yes, I remember you saying that you were asleep, but I want you to know that it will be very welcome even when you and I are awake. This is exactly what I wanted from you, Bella."

I gather my courage and ask him if I may kiss him. He beams and invites me to kiss him wherever I wish to.

-ATW-

At breakfast Edward informs me that he has found the perfect pony for Lizzie.

"He is a piebald Shetland pony, five years old, and is accustomed to give rides to children. Lizzie will have no problem with him."

If I could, I would have gone to him and given him a kiss for being so thoughtful. As it is, I settle for smiling widely and thanking him for arranging this so quickly.

"It makes me happy to see both of you smiling," he answers. "Should we give Lizzie this news as soon as we finish breakfast?"

I see no reason to delay the happy task, so I agree with him wholeheartedly. He teases me that I look as excited as Lizzie would!

However, when we go to the nursery and convey the news to Lizzie, she proves Edward wrong by squealing joyfully and jumping up and down. Maggie shakes her head but doesn't comment or stop her.

"A pony for me? How wonderful, Mama! Can we go and see him now? What colour is he? Is he pretty? Ponies are so pretty, aren't they? Is he tall?"

I laugh at her jump-dance, and also because her enthusiasm is infectious. "You will have to ask your father, Lizzie. He is the one who has arranged for the pony. I haven't seen him yet."

Her mouth opens in a perfect 'O' as she turns her attention to Edward. And then she runs towards him, smiling, and he opens his arms as if he had been waiting for her.

"Thank you, Papa!" Lizzie's thin arms go around him as she hugs him, and she laughs. Her laughter is so merry that it brings a lump into my throat. What if Edward had chosen not to return to the estate and to me?

James would have pushed me to get married to some lord or other, probably an impoverished one who would have been more than willing to manage the estate exactly as James would have dictated him to. What kind of life would I have had? Knowing James, he wouldn't have bothered to check if the man would be a good husband or a good father. My life would have been different from what it was with Anthony, but I doubt if it would have been better.

I close my eyes in gratitude and send a silent thank you to God. He has been watching over me, even if it took him a few years to disperse the grey cloud that had darkened my life.

When we reach the stable, Lizzie capering in front of us the whole way, we find the pony outside. He is a pretty creature, a piebald as Edward had mentioned. His coat is mostly brown, but there is a large patch of white on his left flank, and the lower half of his legs is white too, as is his neck and head. Long, chocolate brown hair fall at his sides and on his forehead, almost covering his eyes. He is short, something I am glad for. My only worry was that Lizzie may be hurt badly if she fell from a horse, but somehow I know she will be safe on this little fellow.

He gives a friendly whinny, sending Lizzie into another outburst of delight. She all but dances around him, admiring every aspect of the four-legged wonder. However, when she stands in front of him she becomes quite serious.

"Mama, he has hair hanging over his eyes. How will he see where he is going? Maybe you can tie it back with a ribbon?"

I press my lips together so that I don't laugh at her earnest suggestion while Edward assures her that the pony can see perfectly well through the hair.

"He has not have a single accident in the two years he has been carrying children around, Lizzie darling. Would you like to sit on it now?"

Evidently Edward's word is enough to convince my little connoisseur. She agrees to his suggestion, and he picks her up and carefully seats her on the saddle. He shows her how to hold the reins, even though he will be the one holding them for a few days, until he is sure she can handle them.

"Papa, what is his name?"

Edward has already helped me on Rosalie and gracefully leapt on to Emmett when Lizzie asks the question. His eyes twinkle as he answers.

"Apple Snowball."

-ATW-

We have a wonderful time in the paddock, with Lizzie trotting on her pony for a while. She is a natural rider, her small body adjusting to the pony's gait with an ease that is enviable. When she is satisfied with the day's lesson, Edward and I take turns exercising our horses properly. She looks longingly at Edward galloping away on Emmett.

"Will I be able to ride like that one day, Mama?"

I assure her that she will, even though the picture scares me somewhat. However, I know that Edward will make sure that she learns well before attempting any such thing.

We come back in time for Lizzie to have her lunch. After thanking both of us, she rushes to her room, announcing that she was going to tell Maggie everything.

Our own lunch is very pleasant, with my favourite dishes on the table. When I thank the housekeeper for taking so much trouble, she smiles warmly and assures me that it was a pleasure.

Both Edward and I have business to attend to afterwards, so we separate for the afternoon. However, he steals a kiss as soon as we exit the dining hall. When I chastise him for being so hasty, he gives me a playful wink, making me smile.

Just like yesterday, I am looking forward to our time together after dinner, but then I notice something while dressing for dinner that upsets me beyond measure.

Yes, it is _that_ time of the month.

For years it has not made a difference to my routine. Why would it? Anthony and I slept separately, so I just put a rag in my drawers and went on as usual with my life.

I have no idea what I should do now. The elderly maid who had looked after me before Alice joined the staff had informed me in her motherly way that she would give a message to my husband that I was _indisposed_ for the week, the first time I had bled after our wedding. He would leave me alone for those nights, and remember the dates in the future.

Of course, once I was with child the visits stopped altogether. A gentleman did not bother his wife when she was in the family way.

How am I supposed to convey this to Edward? Should I send him a message through Alice? Maybe I can tell him myself when he comes to me tonight. No, that would be too awkward.

I haven't decided the course of action I should take by the time I join Edward in the dining room, and the uncertainty makes me distracted enough that he notices it.

"What is the matter, Isabella? You seem a little out of sorts. Are you not feeling well?"

This is my chance. I can tell him that I will be unavailable for the week. Surely he will understand?

But I don't want him to stay away from me for so many nights. I have begun to look forward to them. Still, if I don't tell him now, he will find out later on. And then he will be disgusted.

"My lord, I—I—" I can't find the right words. I will send Alice with the message. "I am just tired, that is all. We spent so much time in the sun today."

He looks doubtful but does not ask any more questions, instead talking about how much he enjoyed watching Lizzie on her pony, and her surprise at the pony's name.

"Was that really his name?" I ask with a smile. He smiles back, a little sheepishly.

"It was Snowball, I only added Apple to it," he confesses, making me laugh. Mrs Stanley, who has been overseeing the first course being served, chuckles softly.

"Miss Lizzie is very fortunate to have you here, my lord."

Edward shakes his head. "I am the one who is fortunate, Mrs Stanley. And you don't need to call me my lord; Edward will be fine."

"But that will be unseemly—"

"Not at all. You have known me since I was a little boy, and cared for me just like a mother does. At least when there are no guests…"

She nods, smiling but also dabbing at her eyes.

There is so much I still don't know about Edward.

After dinner is over and I am in my bedroom, I ask Alice to give the required message to Edward. She does so, and then helps me with my clothes.

I sigh as she begins to brush my hair. I know this is how it has been done for ages, but I really want Edward here.

To my astonishment, I hear my door open that very moment, and Edward comes into view in the full-length mirror in front of me. Can he hear my thoughts now?

I stand, smiling at him like a fool.

"Edward!"

He returns my smile and holds his hand out to Alice. Although she looks confused at his appearance, she gives him the brush and leaves the room.

I want to throw my arms around him, but then I recall the reason why he should not be in my room.

"Bella?" He must have noticed my gloomy expression.

"I am sorry Edward, but you can't be here tonight. Or for the next five nights."

"Why not, sweetheart?" he asks, and I frown in confusion.

"Did you not get the message I sent through Alice?" It must be so, though how that could have happened, I can't imagine.

He puts the brush down and takes my hands in his. "I got your message. I didn't understand it though. Why do I have to keep away from you because you are having your period?"

I gasp at his frank use of the word. I have never heard anybody say that until now!

Immediately, he looks contrite. "Uh, I am sorry if that upset you, darling. I don't know what else it's called. But I really don't want to stay away from you for so many nights."

When I say nothing, his expression becomes uncertain. "Unless you prefer it that way, of course. Do you want me to leave?"

I keep on staring at him. My mind cannot process his questions because I have never even imagined this scenario. After a minute or two, Edward begins to look uncomfortable and fidget. Then he turns away with a muttered good night and takes a step towards the door.

 _That_ brings me back to my senses. How can I let him leave?

"No, please don't go." My hand fists his loose shirt to prevent him from taking another step.

He turns back to me instantly. "Thank heavens. I thought I had offended you in some way!" The noisy exhale that follows his words conveys his relief.

I shake my head. "Not at all. I was merely dumbfounded because I didn't know what answer I should give. I—are you sure you want to stay?"

He smiles and draws me close. "Why wouldn't I?"

I rest my head against his chest. It is easier to answer him if I am not looking at him. "Because…we can't do anything. Also, women are considered impure during these days."

"Old wives' tale," he says dismissively. "As for the other reason, I don't think a husband should want to spend time with his wife for one reason only. That would be terribly selfish of him." He steps back and lifts my chin so I am looking at him. "Do you _want_ to sleep alone? I don't know anything about…Are you in pain of some kind?"

His concern makes me smile even as I become misty-eyed. "No, I am fortunate I have only light cramps for an hour or two. And I want to sleep with you. But…What will we do meanwhile?"

His smile is warm. "We can play cards, or just talk, whatever you want. I just want your company."

Immediately I remember the questions I had wanted to ask him last night. Then he had distracted me so thoroughly that I had completely forgotten about them.

"I do want to ask you some questions, if you don't mind." I take his hand and steer him towards the bed. "Can we sit here? It will be more comfortable for me."

"Of course. You must be feeling cold too."

When we are comfortably ensconced in the bed, with the duvet pulled up to our waists, I ask him the question that has been troubling me the most.

"You said that sometimes two men love each other like a man loves a woman. But how do they manage the lovemaking part?"

Edward groans. "I didn't think you would go back to that topic when I said we could talk. However, I will answer all your questions. I only hope you won't be too shocked." He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. "Remember James mentioned being a gentleman of the backdoor?"

When I nod, he lets his hand slide down my back until he reaches my behind. He taps there lightly, making me jump. "Well, this is what he meant. This is something men too have."

I shake my head, trying to put two and two together. "So…a man would put his tool…Is that even possible?"

His lips twitch as he takes in my scrunched up face. "Yes, it is possible. That was what I was doing when James discovered us in the stable. That boy from the village? He told me it would feel good."

"And did it?" I ask almost in a whisper, even though there is nobody nearby.

He makes an odd face. "I don't know, really. I was curious, obviously, being newly conscious of my body and the changes it was going through. I don't think I had even got it inside properly. I was scared it would hurt him."

"So you never wanted to do that again?" I ask hopefully.

"No, never," he says quickly. "James would like to take credit for that, I suppose, but I never felt like doing it anyway. I was much more interested in girls and how pretty they were."

I am relieved. I may not think it wrong, but I would prefer that Edward had no hankering for other men. But then another doubt surfaces in my mind.

"Do men do that to women too?"

"Some men do. Why?"

"Have you ever done it to a woman?"

His eyebrows jump to his forehead. "Uh, no, I haven't." Then he bows his head and speaks in my ear. "But if you wish to experiment some day, I would be pleased to help you, so don't be shy in asking."

The shock on my face makes him laugh loudly. Embarrassed, I snatch a pillow and hit him with it. Though I do wonder what it might be like though…

After Edward confirms that I have asked all the questions I wanted to, he helps me lie down and asks if he can hold me. I readily agree. It feels so nice to have his arms around me.

And then he asks a question that sets my heart racing.

"Bella, do you remember our first kiss?"

* * *

 **A.N.** Yes, their first kiss. We will be taking a peak into the past in the next chapter.

So Lizzie got a pony. What do you think of its name?

And Bella got her answers. No distractions from Edward tonight!


	19. Chapter 19

Five days ago, I pulled a muscle in my shoulder, due to which my left arm was practically useless. I was sure that this chapter was going to be late. Somehow, it improved yesterday, and I started writing this chapter. Hopefully it has turned out all right!

Oh yes, in case you didn't remember, Apple Snowballs are Lizzie's favourite dessert. :)

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

Chapter-18

 **( Past )**

Dinner was marginally better, not because Lady Delaney's manners had improved, but because we had more guests. With the number of people at the dining table having increased, her rudeness was more evenly distributed, and she had fewer opportunities to aim her barbed questions at me.

At least it proved that she was consistent in her rudeness. I suspect that she would have been more polite to the Queen though, had she chanced to meet her.

Lord Garrett Norman had arrived a couple of hours before dinner, shortly followed by another family, Lord Alec Villiers and Lady Jane Villiers. They were a young couple, perhaps twenty two or three years of age, and had two children—twins—Julian and Anne. Lady Jane informed me rather shyly that the twins were four years of age.

It was easy to see that Anthony was much more comfortable with Lord Norman and Lord Villiers than he was with the Delaneys. Lord Norman was a year younger to him, and Anthony told me that they had become friends at Oxford.

As for the Villiers, they were good friends with the Masen family, Alec's father having conducted business with James for years. Apparently they had visited the estate the previous year as well.

All of them insisted that I should address them by their first names. Lady Delaney, who had not even deigned to let us know what her first name was, made a 'hmph' sound. In her opinion, it must be a breach of propriety.

Another thing that immediately became clear to me was that Garrett was enamoured of Kate. Whether or not she reciprocated his feelings was difficult to say, though there was a definite change in her demeanour. At lunch, she had monopolized Edward's attention, barely letting him address a word to me. It nearly gave me heartburn to see her fawning over him, behaving as if they had known each other forever and she couldn't bear to be parted from him for a moment. When she turned to me and gushed at Edward's prowess at jumping obstacles, and how beautifully he had taught her, I had an extremely unusual urge of scratching her pretty face so that she would shut up.

Lady Delaney glared at both Kate and Edward throughout the meal in a manner that made her disapproval abundantly clear. For some reason though, her anger seemed to be focussed on Edward rather than her coquette of a daughter. As if he was encouraging her in any way!

Edward looked thoroughly uncomfortable, answering Kate in polite monosyllables while throwing beseeching looks at Anthony and me. But Anthony was engrossed in Lord Delaney's long-winded reminiscence of his travel through Prussia as a young man. The one time he did glance at Edward, he gave a little shrug as if saying he was as helpless as him in the matter.

And what could I have done? However my guests might behave, I had to play the gracious hostess. Like Lady Delaney, others of Anthony's acquaintance must be judging me already. I didn't want to give them more fodder for gossip!

As soon as lunch was over, Edward had made his escape, saying that his mother required him home urgently. I could almost hear him exhale as he rushed out of the door!

Unfortunately, I had no such excuse. Hence I had to bear Lady Delaney's _august_ company as she toured the mansion and its surroundings, commenting on everything she deemed worthy of her attention. Nothing escaped her sharp eyes, from a stain on a maid's uniform to the kind of fertilizer the gardener was using in the rose garden. She reminisced how _dear James_ had built up the whole property with hard work and vision, and how grateful I should be to him.

"He handled Anthony so well after his wife passed away," she enthused as we returned to the parlour for some much-needed tea and refreshments. Being agreeable to her was exhausting, really. "It would have been so easy to mollycoddle the boy and let him grow into a spoilt, useless dandy. Instead James took him firmly in hand, provided him the best of education and guided him in the running of the estate—and look at him now! He is an upstanding young man any father would be proud of, unlike his worthless cousin."

My eyebrows jumped at the last sentence. I might not have known everything about Edward, but I did know that he was not worthless.

She took my expression to be one of shock and proceeded to enlighten me.

"Oh, Edward is very _charming_ ," she drawled in a tone that made it clear it was not a compliment. "I am sure he will make a good marriage with a rich widow and inherit all her money. But he should learn a thing or two from Anthony, do something worthwhile instead of running after horses the whole day. Really, it is a most unsuitable activity for a member of such an illustrious family! At least his father chose a decent occupation. I am sure he is breaking his poor mother's heart with his careless attitude, don't you think?"

I was so stunned at being appealed to that I could only mumble something incoherent. But she was not probably expecting an answer, for she seemed quite satisfied with our one-sided conversation.

Kate joined us for tea, and mother and daughter chatted on inane topics while I nodded dutifully and pretended to be amazed at how much Lady Delaney's Indian shawl cost and how well Kate could play the pianoforte. I did have a difficult time suppressing my yawns once or twice. Were all noblewomen like them? If yes, the season of visitors was going to be a very long one indeed!

Fortunately, I was proved wrong that very evening. Lady Jane Villiers, or Jane as she insisted I should call her, was neither vapid nor pretentious. Not once did she show off her jewellery or antique lace, or boast how grand her husband's estate was, or how many servants they had. To my surprise, she was interested in me and wanted to know more about me without being intrusive.

We had a lively discussion on Jane Austen's novel— _Pride and Prejudice._ It had been published as a comedy of manners and had enjoyed immense popularity. Jane thought that Elizabeth was a smart woman, perfect for the outwardly cold Mister Darcy. We giggled at her witty repartees and how much poor Darcy must have agonised over her unattainableness. Even Kate agreed with us and joined our merriment.

Lady Delaney had a very strong opinion on the book, of course. She huffed a little and stated that Elizabeth was too impudent for her own good. Also, she had no idea as to how to respect her elders.

"Look how saucy she was with Lady Catherine, Darcy's aunt," she said, ending our chuckles. "I assure you, if this had happened in real life, she would have estranged her husband from his family and driven him to drink soon enough. The poor man would not have been able to spend a single day in peace, with such a wife at his side. He should have listened to his aunt and married his cousin instead!"

Jane made a face at that, and I had to press my lips together to prevent laughing openly. If she could, she would have accosted Miss Austen and forced her to change the end of the novel, of that I was sure.

As the maids began to clear the table in preparation for serving the dessert course, the topic was changed without further comment.

-ATW-

The next morning, I was glad to know that Lady Delaney was an excellent shooter and always joined her husband at the hunt. It meant that she would be out of the house for at least a few hours every day!

Edward was expected to accompany them, so he could not go riding with me. But he promised me that he would find some time in the afternoon to help me practice.

Kate went with them for a couple of days, but on the third day she decided to stay back and read a book. She also chatted a bit with Jane and me, and I could see that she was not a bad sort. Perhaps she was somewhat childish and wanted other people's attention, but her heart was in the right place.

She did play the piano fairly well, though not as masterfully as I had seen some people play at my aunt and uncle's parties. Still, all of us praised her, particularly Garrett. Whether Lady Delaney approved or not—for Garrett was only a baron—Kate basked in the admiration of the handsome young man with unruly blond hair and earnest blue eyes. It was only a matter of time before he would ask Lord Delaney's permission to court his daughter.

Anthony informed me that Garrett had met Kate in London a few months ago, but they had not spoken much. Now that he knew that her parents were actively seeking a groom for her, he was going to take his chance.

Six days after our guests had arrived, Edward had decided to take me riding in a lightly wooded area of the estate. We were going to stay on a well-used path to avoid any wild animals though. As usual, Kate had joined us for the ride.

Edward was riding alongside me and explaining that I needed to exercise more control over Rosalie as the path twisted and turned in some places, with Kate following behind on Rusty. After a few minutes, she began to urge me to go faster.

"There's nothing to it, Bella! Just let Rosalie go. We ride much harder when we go for a hunt, you know?"

"But I am a novice at this, Kate," I answered patiently. "Before I got married, I was scared of horses. It is only now that I have gained a little confidence with Rosalie. I want to get used to this first."

"You are no fun," she said in a tone that suggested she was pouting. "It is so easy to make your horse gallop. I will help you."

Edward's head jerked back at the same time I felt something hit Rosalie's right flank. Before I could understand what had happened, Rosalie neighed loudly, and we were flying through the trees.

I could hear Edward yell something about keeping my head down, but my mind had stopped working. I barely saw the thick, low-hanging branch before I lost my seat and saw the ground rushing to meet me. I lay there on the grass, completely winded, feeling the cold and damp below. My head swam, so I kept my eyes shut

After a few minutes I was able to breathe more normally. I also became conscious of someone holding me, with my head resting in their lap. Gentle fingers felt my forehead, and a soft voice called my name and begged me to open my eyes.

"Bella, please, please be all right. Please open your eyes and say you are not hurt."

I opened my eyes to find Edward's face above me, but his features seemed blurry. I blinked a few times and they became more clear.

"Edward?"

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, Bella! I was so worried! How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"I don't think so," I managed faintly. "I am feeling light-headed though. Can you help me sit up?"

"Of course. Slowly, all right?" He supported me as I sat, keeping his arm around my back. "I tried to hold your reins, but Rosalie was off like a shot from a gun."

I noticed that my skirt was riding up to my knee and tried to pull it down. Heavens, he had seen my legs!

Edward didn't seem to be paying attention to them. He carefully felt around my hairline, murmuring something about a bump. Then he picked a few leaves out of my hair, which had come loose and was falling over my back.

"What had happened?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the warmth infusing my body at his actions. He was handling me as if I was made of glass!

He sighed. "Kate thought she was _helping_ you when she used her riding crop on Rosalie. Of course Rosalie ran off. She has never felt the whip before, and to be struck like that all of a sudden—it must have startled her."

"Where is she now?" I asked, trying to brush my hair and make it somewhat presentable. "Ugh! My hair must be so messy right now!"

For the first time since I had opened my eyes in his lap, Edward smiled. "You are worried about your hair? And by _she_ did you mean Rosalie or Kate?"

"Um, Rosalie. I don't particularly care where Kate is." It might have sounded rude, but it was true. Her intention might not have been malicious, but her action had been so thoughtless.

This time Edward openly laughed. "My guess is Rosalie has gone back to the stables. If not, I will look for her after I get you home. Let me help you stand, and don't worry about your hair. It is still very pretty." And he ran his fingers through the loose strands.

The action was so intimate that it made me shiver with pleasure. "Th-thank you," I stammered as he helped me stand up, still supporting me from behind. "For following me, and…everything. I am not even sure where I am right now!"

"Of course I followed you, sweetheart," he said, voice low and rough. "When I found you lying here, the worst thoughts passed through my mind. I was sure you had broken your leg, or that you were…dead."

Sweetheart? I turned to find his eyes shimmering with tears, and then one slid down his cheek. Without thinking I raised my hand and wiped it off. He was looking at me as if the world would have ended with my death. "Edward," I whispered, getting lost in his eyes.

One of his hands slid to my back while the other supported my head as he lowered his slowly. My eyes closed, and I felt his lips brush mine. Once, twice, so gently that it felt like a feather was touching them. I sighed, longing for more, and my arms went around his neck. When my fingers came in contact with his hair, they instinctively held on to it.

Suddenly the pressure of his lips on mine increased. My breath hitched as I felt him suck at my bottom lip, and then his tongue touched mine. It made me feel as if lightening had jolted me from inside. My mouth opened more, allowing him to explore it better, while his hands pressed my body closer to his. The sensations running through my body were intense beyond my imagination. I felt his leg nudge mine and a hardness against my stomach, and heard a moan that could have come from me or from him.

It lasted only a few minutes, but I was breathless when we separated. He was breathing hard, his eyes darker than usual as he stared hungrily at me. Gradually the world around came into focus; my breathing became more normal, and his eyes lightened.

"I am sorry, Bella," he said sorrowfully, and I came back to my senses. What had I been doing? "This should never have happened."

I nodded slowly. "No, it shouldn't have. I am sorry too. Anthony doesn't deserve this."

He opened his mouth to say something more, but then shook his head and closed it. Silently, we walked to where his horse was waiting patiently.

Edward helped me on Emmett and climbed up behind me. We returned to the mansion at a moderate pace.

"Edward, I won't be riding with you any more," I said as the mansion came into view.

* * *

 **A.N.** I read 'How to Forget' by Shadow Masen recently, and if you haven't read it yet, please do. It's so well-written. The medical details astonished me!

So that's how their first kiss came about. Thoughts?

More gems of wisdom from Lady Delaney. :P

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!


	20. Chapter 20

Thank you for your awesome response to the last chapter. You understood that the kiss was an emotional moment for Edward and Bella, and that they are tied to their positions.

Many thanks to the guest reviewer who very kindly pointed out that Germany as we know did not exist in the early 1800s, so Lord Delaney couldn't have visited it. I have changed it to Prussia, as she suggested.

Garrett didn't have a surname in the _Twilight_ books, but in ff he has been given the last name of Nomad some times. The closest British name I could find in that period was Norman. Similarly, Villiers was the closest name to Volturi. It was actually a titled family as well.

* * *

 **Chapter-19**

Kate was distraught; dramatically so.

"Oh, Bella," she wailed as soon as I entered my home, still trying to tie my hair in a bun. "I am _so_ sorry. I didn't mean you any harm, truly I didn't. I was just being impatient with your slow pace, and I wanted you to see you could go much faster and it is much more fun that way. When Rosalie took off with you, I was so scared!" And she burst into tears.

I stared at her dumbfounded as she lay elegantly, supporting her arm and head along the back of the velvet-covered sofa. If a painter would have chanced to look upon her, he would have painted a picture of her titled _Beautiful Misery._

Lady Delaney, who was stationed on another sofa nearby, nodded vigorously. "She is truly remorseful, Isabella. When she came back from the riding, she was so out of breath that I could not understand a word she was saying. It was with great difficulty that I made her have some wine to calm her nerves. Please say that you forgive her or she will be agitated again."

"Of course I forgive her," I said, feeling tired of the histrionics of both mother and daughter. None of them had asked me if I was all right. All they were concerned with was their own _delicate_ feelings, or at least Kate's. If I didn't see them again in my whole life, it would be a great joy to me.

Lady Jane came down the stairs that moment. I knew she spent most of the afternoon with her children. She was so affectionate with them!

"Isabella, what happened to you?" she asked in a worried tone as she came near me and took my hands in hers. "Have you been hurt? You have a scratch on your forehead."

Her kindness almost made me cry. I had to swallow before I could answer her.

"Thank you, Jane. I fell from my horse when she bolted, but I don't think I am injured. I do feel somewhat light-headed though. And I am sure my clothes and hair are muddy and stained from the damp grass."

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, her eyes full of concern. "You could have been badly hurt. Do you need help with anything? Shall I escort you to your room?"

Mrs Stanley, whose silent presence I had not noticed until then, stepped forward. "May I suggest my lady to proceed to her room with Lady Villiers? I will arrange a hot bath for you meanwhile. It will help with the aches too."

Pragmatic as ever, I thought. But at least she was showing some kind of concern for me!

"Thank you, Mrs Stanley, and Jane. I think that will be very helpful."

"Isabella," interrupted Lady Delaney rather loudly. "I think you should not mention this little tumble to Anthony. Men are such absurd creatures. He will make a great fuss over nothing, and then it will reach my husband's ears, and well, it might lead to a strain in their business relations."

Kate produced another pitiful cry at her words.

"There, there, my child, no need to make yourself sick over such a trivial incident," cooed Lady Delaney while the rest of us gawked at her. "Isabella has already forgiven you. Why don't you take a nap in your room and come down when you are rested? And wear something petty for dinner. It will cheer you up!"

Jane shook her head, in astonishment I suppose. None of us said anything though. What could one say in the face of such audacious behaviour?

We went to my room, and Jane kept me company while my bath was being drawn. Then she left, and Mary helped me take my riding clothes off and step into the bath. She clucked over the state of my hair and started to wash it, her hands gentle around the bump she said she could feel. I hadn't felt anything before, but my head was starting to ache.

The soak did help with the soreness I could feel in my back muscles. Mary brought me a soothing cup of tea after I was out of the tub, and insisted that I lie down for a bit before I was to get ready for diner.

I was only too happy to comply, not only because of the aches in my body but also because I wanted time to think.

The kiss with Edward had been so wonderful, but it was so wrong. I wished Anthony would kiss me with that kind of passion, but then I felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. After all, husbands and wives did not lie together because they had passionate feelings for each-other. It was their marital obligation to further their family tree. Men got some enjoyment out of the act because it was easy for them; women didn't. That's the way it was.

The way Edward had kissed me was probably what noblemen reserved for their mistresses. They were the ones who fulfilled their need when their wives could not because they were indisposed, or in family way, or too busy with their social obligations.

Uh, I wished that I had not tasted that kind of passion! My life would have been much simpler without it. I would have been content to be a dutiful wife and a caring mother, living by a set of rules set by our society. Anthony's friends would have accepted me eventually. My life would have been uneventful, but satisfying.

Why did I have to feel this attraction to Edward? Why did I have to invite this emotional upheaval into my life?

By the time I got up to dress for dinner, I had decided that I would forget that kiss in the woods. I would also avoid Edward as much as possible. Any other option was unthinkable.

Mary did my hair again, curling it softly before pinning it up in a way that a few curls covered the scratch on my forehead. I had no desire to cause bad blood between Anthony and Lord Delaney.

Dinner was pleasant enough, except that Edward's manner towards Lady Delaney as well as Kate was cold to the point of being glacial. Kate did try to engage him in light-hearted conversation twice, but his answers, though courteous, were extremely brief. She gave up after that and directed her attention to Garrett instead.

The only awkward moment was when Garrett praised Kate's riding skills.

"I have seen her riding only on two days, when she joined us for the hunt," he said warmly. "But I can confidently say that she is a horsewoman of superior nature. I have never seen a young woman make her horse gallop quite like that!"

"Indeed," drawled Edward, his tone lazy but his face set in stone, "I must agree with you there. Kate can make _any_ horse gallop hard. It is a most unusual skill."

Kate turned pale, but smiled weakly. Garrett cocked his head towards Edward, his expression puzzled. Even Anthony paused in his discussion with Lord Delaney and threw Edward a questioning glance.

However, Edward simply shook his head once, and Anthony did not press the topic.

Lady Delaney made a silly comment on the necessity of riding well, and the topic was dropped. I sighed, relieved that it did not lead to any drama.

When it was bedtime, I waited for Anthony for a while and then went to sleep. It had happened before that he had come to bed quite late, or not at all on some nights. I was disappointed though that I was not being given a chance to make up for my momentary lapse of judgment.

In the morning, Mary brought me a note from my husband while I was readying myself for breakfast. It was short, but very sweet. Anthony had explained that he had come to know of my accident and wished to give me a few days to recover from it. Therefore he would not be visiting me until I felt absolutely fine.

I would have let him know that there were no lingering ill-effects from the accident, except a few aches. And a slight bruise on my hip that Mary had pointed out while helping me with my bath. However, I thought that he might take it as not appreciating his gesture.

Also, I knew that my time of the month was approaching, perhaps in two or three days. Anthony would have stopped his visits then in any case. So I wrote back a suitable reply, thanking him for his consideration and adding that I should be in perfect health by the end of _that_ week.

"Did his lordship mention how he learnt of the accident, Mary?" I asked curiously.

"No, my lady. Perhaps it was Mrs Stanley?"

I hummed. It was possible, of course. Lady Delaney had only commanded _me_ not to mention the accident to Anthony. Mrs Stanley was under no obligation to follow her directive. However, I could not understand why the housekeeper would take it upon herself to go against Lady Delaney's wishes. What did she stand to gain from it?

As the day passed, it became obvious to me that Anthony must have spoken with Lord Delaney on the matter, and _he_ must have had words with his wife. Lady Delaney seemed rather subdued, being coldly polite to me but speaking little on the whole. It was a welcome relief!

As for Edward, it was not difficult to avoid him. I already had a suitable excuse for not going riding, so Anthony didn't ask me any questions regarding my decision. And perhaps Edward could pretend to be too busy to teach me later on. At any rate, he did not approach me, though he maintained a friendly air.

Three days passed, then four, and then five, but there was no sign of the monthly visitor. When days continued to pass without any spotting in my underclothes, I began to have doubts. At the end of the week, Mary smiled and congratulated me, for it seemed almost certain that I was going to be a mother.

I sent a note to Anthony informing him of the possibility, and he appeared in my room that night after dinner, to congratulate me and make me promise that I would take good care of myself during the pregnancy.

I thanked him shyly, but I had a request for him.

"My lord, I would prefer to keep this news to our family for now. Somehow I am not comfortable with the idea of sharing it with our guests."

He nodded in agreement. "I don't wish to share with them either. In fact, Mary tells me that we should wait for at least another month before announcing the joyful news to the family, as it takes some time for the baby to stabilise."

"First babies can be unpredictable, my lady," added Mary. "We will pray to the Lord that the child remains healthy and well, but sometimes they are lost before being born. Therefore, it is advisable to wait a little before letting others know. Also, some people cast evil spells on expecting women."

"Does that mean I should not tell my mother?" I asked doubtfully. Surely there could be no harm in that!

"I suppose that should be all right," said Anthony slowly. "Please ask her to keep it to herself for the time being though."

"She will understand the reason, my lady," assured Mary. "Mothers do a lot for their children. This will be a very small thing for her."

I agreed, but I did request Anthony to invite my mother to the estate as soon as the guests had left. To my relief, Lord Delaney had regretfully informed Anthony that they must cut their visit short due to his presence being required elsewhere. Therefore, they would leave Masen estate within two days.

He agreed easily, looking really happy at the prospect of becoming a father. Then he surprised me by asking if it would be all right with me to invite Edward's mother as well. Not on the same day as mine, of course.

"Well, of course it is all right," I answered. "But will she be interested in visiting me? We don't know each other well, I am afraid."

Anthony sighed. "She is rather reclusive, yes. But she will certainly wish to congratulate you. She was very affectionate to me after I had lost my mother. I think we should let her know."

I nodded. It was true that I did not know Anthony's aunt, but I saw no harm in meeting her.

And there was no need to find an excuse for not riding with Edward, since I wouldn't be riding at all until I had had the baby and recovered completely from the ordeal.

* * *

 **A.N.** Thank you for reading!

I am about to finish reading 'Come Back Tomorrow' by Shadow Masen. What a story it is!


	21. Chapter 21

Thank you for your reviews and for asking about my shoulder. It was getting better, but then I had to fly and it got a jerk while I was collecting my suitcase from the baggage carousal. Right now I can manage most tasks, but it does hurt a bit. Oh well.

Some family time, some fluff, coming right up!

* * *

 **Chapter-20**

 **( Present )**

I sleep well enough, but when I wake up it's still very early. The dull morning light has just begun to steal into the room, making silhouettes of previously invisible items of furniture. Why have I woken up this early?

A strange sound close to me makes me look around in alarm. It sounds almost as if somebody is in pain. I look around wildly, and then I remember that I am not alone in my bed. Edward is there, asleep beside me.

At least, he seems asleep, except that he just groaned. Is there something wrong with him?

Before I can decide whether or not to wake him up, he throws off the duvet to my side. Nothing is clear, but it seems as if his hand is inside his pyjamas…moving in a rhythmic fashion. Is he playing with his tool? Why would he do that?

I watch fascinated as his pace increases and his groans become more pronounced. Finally, with a long-drawn _ahhh_ , he stills and draws his hand back.

I can no longer control my curiosity.

"Edward?" I call out softly, but he jumps as if a shot has been fired.

"Bella!" He sits up hastily, rubbing his hand against his clothes. "When did you…I thought you were asleep!"

I have never seen Edward so flustered since he returned from France. And even though I can't see his face, I can _feel_ heat radiating off his skin. _Is he blushing?_

"I was," I assure him, "but then I heard you…"

He pulls at his hair. Why is he so embarrassed?

"You did?"

I place my hand on his and stop him from abusing his silky locks. "I am sorry…Should I have pretended not to hear you? I didn't even understand what you were doing at first!"

He chuckles soundlessly. "I—I am not sure what to say. But no, you don't have to pretend anything with me. Ah, do you understand now—what I was doing, that is?"

I shrug. "Not completely. It seemed to me that you were playing with your tool. Were you?"

This time he laughs. "You don't beat about the bush, don't you? To answer your question, yes, I was. It is something most men do some or other time in their life."

"Does it feel good?" I ask curiously.

"Uh, yes. Very good."

"So why were you embarrassed that I heard you?"

He mutters something like 'so curious'. "We don't do it in front of a lady. Or anybody else, for that matter. It is for personal pleasure."

My eyes widen. "So, no woman has seen her husband do this before? Well, I didn't really see anything, but—" I stop as he shakes his head and laughs.

"I suppose some of them must have," he says finally. Now that my eyes have become more used to the meager light, I can see his eyes twinkling. I just know he is going to say something mischievous.

I am proved right as he speaks. "Do you _want_ to see me do _that_?" He probably thinks I will refuse, but I am not going to back away from the challenge. Also, I know so little about men. If my husband wants to show me something new, I want to see.

My answer clearly takes him by surprise, but he promises to show me tonight. Then he says he has to change his clothes and leaves for his room.

Hmm, I suppose he has to, if he feels as sticky as I do after our lovemaking. Also, unlike me he has nowhere to put that _stuff_ away.

-ATW-

At breakfast, there is a note for me from my mother, asking if I could spend the day with her and my sister, and bring Lizzie with me. I show it to Edward.

"Of course you should visit them," he says, answering my unasked question. "Your mother probably wants to be sure that this marriage has brought happiness to you, and also that it hasn't been a disadvantage."

I tilt my head curiously. "Why would she think that? You are Anthony's cousin, not a stranger."

He shrugs lightly. "That doesn't mean anything. It's true that she didn't know Anthony, but she knew _of_ him, at least. He had been managing the estate for over two years and had a reputation in the village. On the other hand, I am new to everybody except the staff."

If he wasn't sitting across from the table, I would have patted his hand. Instead I tried to reassure him with my words. "My lord, I am sure my mother must have heard good things about you since you have come back to the estate. And the fact that your staff likes you so much is important as well. Word gets around from one household to another, you know?"

It seems to work, for he looks happier. "I would like your parents to think well of me, sweetheart." Then he leans forward and lowers his voice. "Can I trust you to put in a good word for me? Have I made you happy in all the _important_ ways?"

His expression says more than his words, and I gasp that he should refer to our intimate moments at the breakfast table, even though there are no servants close by. A couple of maids are standing near the sideboard, but they are chatting in a low voice and not paying attention to our conversation.

"Edward!"

I bite my tongue at my spontaneity. He makes me so careless!

"Yes, darling," he says, trying his best to sound innocent. Not much chance of that, with his eyes dancing with mischief.

I press my lips but a giggle bursts out. "You are incorrigible!"

He smiles, looking as pleased as if he is a child and has been awarded the prize for being the best student in the class. I just shake my head. What am I to do with him?

-ATW-

Lizzie is ecstatic when I tell her we are going to her grandparents. They dote on her and treat her like a princess, after all. And she likes to ride in the carriage too!

My father has gone out to the fields, but my mother assures us that he will be back for tea. She makes much of Lizzie and presents her with a book that is full of pictures from far-off places. Also, the gardener has a little girl who is only a few months older to Lizzie, and they get along well, so she sets off to find her friend and share her gift with her.

My mother's indulgent smile fades as Lizzie disappears and she turns towards me. It is such a nice day, with the sun warm on our skin and the birds calling to each-other: we have elected to sit in the garden instead of the parlour inside. There are flowers in abundance, and bees are buzzing in the distance. It is very pleasant and lazy.

There are some old chairs and a table set under a tree, so we can enjoy the sun but are protected if it becomes too hot. Mamma has informed me that Angela will join us in a little while. I am sure it is because Mamma wants to talk with me in private.

"How are you, Isabella? Are you happy with your new husband?"

She doesn't sound worried exactly, but there is an uncertainty in her voice. I hadn't thought about it, but it seems Edward was right. However, I can answer her with complete honesty.

"Yes, Mamma, he does, he makes me very happy. And he is such a good father to Lizzie too. She was very attached to Anthony, but I can see that she is not so sad now. She receives a lot of affection from Edward."

My mother smiles, relief written on her face. "That is really good, Isabella. Few men care for children that they have not sired. And these lords…they usually keep their own children at a distance, don't they?"

I nod. "Most of them do, but Anthony still found time for Lizzie, and Edward…you should have seen his face when Lizzie asked him if she could call him Papa. I thought he would burst with happiness!"

This time her smile is wider, a symbol of pure joy. "I must confess it brings me great happiness, my child. I know we met him once before the wedding, but what can we know of someone in fifteen minutes? We had hardly ever seen the man while you were married to Anthony, or heard anything about him. Also, gaining a title sometimes goes to a man's head, so it wouldn't have mattered if we had met him earlier."

I tell her how much the servants look up to him and what plans he has for the estate, and she listens with rapt attention. I also tell her about Lizzie getting a pony, and the name Edward has bestowed upon it because it is Lizzie's favourite dessert. That makes her laugh!

When it is time for lunch, we get up, and she surprises me with a hug. When she pulls back, I see tears in her eyes.

"Isabella, I have not heard such enthusiasm in your voice for years! You always seemed content, but there was something missing in your eyes. Today you look as if you have gained that missing part. Now I can put my worries to rest."

"But you never…" I trail off, but she understands my question nevertheless.

"I didn't want to meddle in your business, dear. I thought if there was something you wanted to share with me, you would let me know. Sometimes things sour between husband and wife, but it is up to them to find a way, you know? If you had come to me with your problem, I would have tried to help, of course."

I nod in agreement, and we proceed towards the house. So she had noticed my unhappiness but decided not to interfere. And what good would it have done anyway? It wasn't as if I could have explained to her what was wrong with my life!

Angela joins us for lunch, which I expected, but so does Aunt Esme. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised though. Of course my aunt would have the same concerns as my mother and would want to set them right as soon as possible.

I repeat my praise for Edward, and both Angela and Esme seem satisfied. Indeed, Angela seems more than satisfied. She is looking at me as if I am showing her a fairy-tale world.

As soon as lunch is over, she begs me to take a stroll with her in the garden. She must have discussed it with Mamma before, for she waves us off with a smile.

I expect her to discuss her wedding dress or something similar, so I am surprised when she keeps quiet and fiddles with her gown. Finally we sit on a bench and I ask her what is bothering her.

She clears her throat and looks at her hands. To my consternation, her face turns an uneven red and beads of sweat appear on her forehead.

"Angela, are you not feeling well?"

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. Then she says something that sounds like Iwanttoknowwhathappensontheweddingnight.

I blink at her, not sure if I heard her right. She looks at me expectantly.

"You want to know what happens on…" I can't bring myself to complete the sentence. My younger sister is asking me about _sex_.

She bites her lower lip. "I can't ask Mamma, can I? You are a married woman and even have a child. You can advise me better than anybody else." Her eyes grow wide and her face pales as she thinks over something. "My friend Betty—she got married three months ago—said that it hurt a lot. She cried for hours and forbade her husband to touch her for a week!"

"And her husband agreed?"

She giggles. "Yes, they have known each other since they were children. I suppose she scared him with her crying and all." Then her face falls. "But I don't know Mr Cheney. He has been here a couple of times, and we have spoken a little, but he still is a stranger to me. I can't imagine refusing his advances, even if it hurts. What did you do? Was it that bad for you?"

Her eyes are pleading for reassurance. I guess she knows what to expect, at least to some extent. She doesn't need advice from me, only my understanding.

"No, it wasn't that bad, although it was awkward at first," I say slowly, thinking back to that time. "Anthony was really gentle with me, though I wish we had talked more. It can make so much difference. Now that Edward—"

My face heats up and I clamp my mouth shut. I am _not_ going to discuss our intimate moments with my sister!

She doesn't give up easily though. "Does he make you happy? Do you talk with him?"

I admit that yes, he makes me happy, and we do talk. Angela squeals loudly.

"I have never seen you blush like this! He must be very good at it."

I blush some more and laugh at her enthusiasm. Of course she doesn't know about the barren years in between, but she is right. My earlier experience was all right, I suppose, but now I am learning to actually enjoy our coupling.

We talk on various matters. Finally mother calls us to come inside and have tea.

My father is back from work, and Lizzie is back from her friend's house. She is chattering away, telling all of us how wonderful her day has been. My parents and aunt smile at her and encourage her through questions and exclamations.

We have just begun our first cup of tea when there is the sound of a horse's hooves coming to a halt outside. We look at each other questioningly.

A moment later a maid enters and announces that Lord Edward Masen is here to see my parents. My mother gives me a knowing smile, and she and my aunt exchange looks.

"Well Jenny, don't make him wait in the drawing room," says mother. "Bring him inside so he can join us, and set another place for tea."

"Isn't it unusual for a lord to come without prior invitation, or at least intimation?" wonders my father. Mother hushes him quickly.

I can feel my ears burning, but then Edward enters the room, and I forget why he shouldn't be here without notice. All I can see is his eager smile.

All of us rise to welcome him, though Lizzie runs straight into his arms, of course. I wish I could do the same.

He apologises charmingly for the interruption, but adds that he wanted to meet my parents properly but without too much ceremony. The one meeting before the wedding was too brief to be counted.

Soon he has everyone at ease and smiling at his words. I can see that my father likes his down-to-earth manner, and they earnestly discuss some crops-related problem. Edward also explains his plans to breed horses on the estate. But he also listens attentively when Lizzie prattles about her pony.

When tea is over, he looks at me and asks playfully if he can see my childhood room. I am surprised but agree gladly, for I want to be alone with him.

It seems he wanted the same thing, for as soon as we enter the room he shuts the door and pulls me close for a long kiss. I try to remember that my parents are in the other room, but it is difficult when I am surrounded with his heat and want. His arms are around me, his perfect body pressed against mine while his lips nip and suck mine, then move to my neck and shower kisses there. I feel like I am burning for him.

"I missed you," he murmurs finally, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"I missed you too," I answer into the soft fabric of his shirt, and feel him smile as he kisses my head.

"I hope you didn't mind my dropping in like this. I just had to see you."

How can I mind when he is being so sweet?

"I don't mind, but…"

"But what?" He sounds a little anxious as he loosens me so that he can look at my face.

"Angela is going to tease me so much. And it will be embarrassing to face my parents when we go back to the parlour."

"I think it will be more embarrassing for me," he says in a strained voice, making me laugh.

"Maybe you should actually show me your childhood room until my…problem goes away?" he suggests. Of course my eyes are drawn to his breeches.

"It goes away by itself?"

He groans. "Not if you keep on staring at it, but otherwise yes. It just takes a few minutes."

"Will it come back at night?"

"Bella!"

* * *

 **A.N.** : Did Bella just give Edward a taste of his own medicine? ;)

Do you want some details of Edward's _demonstration_ to Bella or shall I continue to the more important things in the story?


	22. Chapter 22

The reviews for the last chapter had me laughing out loud! Edward giving a demo was voted for by an astounding majority of the readers, so here it is. Some of you cheekily announced that the demo _was_ an important part of the story!

That said, your reviews mean a lot to me, whether they consist of a smiley, a short phrase or a detailed analysis. I am not yet very confident of my writing, so every review you send tells me I am not as bad as I think and encourages me to keep writing. Thank you, really!

* * *

 **Chapter-21**

Edward leaves soon after, but not before my mother invites him to drop in whenever he wants to. Aunt Esme joins in with a more specific invitation.

"It is my—and the doctor's, of course-silver wedding anniversary in a fortnight," she informs Edward, who congratulates her politely. She thanks him and continues, "We will send you a formal invitation in a day or two, but since you are here I would like to invite you and Isabella personally as well. Do join us for dinner and share our happiness. There will be dancing as well; we are hiring a popular music band from London!" She smiles widely, perhaps already envisioning the scene and the guests enjoying themselves. My aunt really does love to entertain people.

Edward assures her that we will definitely attend the party, and then takes his leave of everyone. My father escapes to his study, reminding me to say goodbye to him before leaving.

I stay for an hour and endure Angela's teasing, while my mother and aunt talk about the party, Angela's wedding preparations and household matters. But when Aunt Esme joins Angela in the good-natured ribbing, saying there is a certain glow on my face, I know it is time to say goodbye.

My mother suddenly remembers that she has not met Edward's mother properly. They had exchanged only a few sentences on my wedding day, but she liked her.

"She was a lady if ever I saw one, even though she does not have a title," she remarks thoughtfully. "Her speech, her carriage, everything spoke of an innate refinement. Isabella, when you see her next, do ask her if she would like to visit us. Or, if she is more comfortable at the manor, I can come and meet her whenever she would like to."

Hmm, perhaps I should pay Elizabeth a visit myself first. I would not want to impose anything upon her.

I speak with Edward on this matter while we are having dinner. He looks surprised but very pleased that I wish to make acquaintance of his mother. He promises to take me to her house on the morrow, after sending a note to her, of course.

"Did Angela tease you after I left?" he asks then, and I huff at the memory.

"Yes, but what surprised me was my aunt joining in."

He raises an eyebrow. "She did? And what did she have to say on the topic?"

I shake my head. "She said that I had a glow on my face, and it was definitely a sign of marital bliss. Really, what a thing to say in front of Angela!"

Edward's smile proclaims his satisfaction. "I must thank her then, the next time I see her. After all, I have a hand in your bliss, don't I?"

His words remind me of his action this morning, and my snicker is audible even though I cover my mouth quickly. Edward looks at me inquisitively.

"What?"

I can't speak clearly while I am giggling uncontrollably. "Your hand… _your hand…your bliss…_ "

Edward's face become as red as the apples in the fruit bowl. He half-hides it behind his hand as he dips his head, but I can see he is laughing. When he is more in control of himself, he looks at me with a playful glare.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have said that, Isabella."

I pretend to be scared. "Why my lord, what are you going to do? Punish me by not letting me have dessert?"

He gets up and goes to Mrs Stanley, who is standing near the sideboard and laughing quietly. He whispers something to her, and she nods and instructs the maid to serve the dessert. I watch, somewhat surprised to see only a single plate being served and placed where Edward has been sitting. Is he really going to withhold ice cream from me?

Both the maid and the housekeeper bow and leave the room. Edward takes his seat and gives me a teasing look.

"Isn't vanilla ice your favourite, Bella?" he asks as he takes a bite of the goodness in front of him. "And there is fruit salad under it! Delicious!"

I decide to play along. "It is indeed, my lord. Can I have some, please?"

He looks thoughtful. "You can, but you will have to come here for it. Will you?"

I raise my eyebrows. He curves a finger and beckons me.

Oh well, there is nobody here but the two of us. I go around the table and stand near him, expecting him to draw another chair for me and ask me to eat from the same plate. Instead he pats his lap and invites me to sit down.

"My lord!" Alone or not, this is scandalous behaviour for the dining room.

"Edward," he says, "call me Edward."

"I can't sit in your lap!" I whisper furiously. "There must be servants outside. What if one of them comes inside?"

In answer, he simply takes hold of my waist and pulls until I plop down on his lap, almost falling backward. However, his arms secure me so that I am seated sideways, my feet dangling at least a foot above the ground.

"Edward, we can't do this! If someone—"

He cuts off my words by sealing my lips with his. I would get up and run away, but he is holding me fast to himself. After struggling a bit, I give up because he clearly isn't going to. Also, his kisses make me forget my surroundings.

When he has made me sufficiently breathless, he lets me go. I rest my head against his shoulder, sure that my knees would buckle if I tried to stand.

We feed ice cream to each other, and then he promises to see me in my room. Soon.

-ATW-

While Alice helps me with my clothes, I keep on tittering, thinking of what we did in the dining room. It still seems terribly wicked to me, but also…fun, so much fun.

Alice smiles too. "My lady, you must have had a good visit with your family. You are in a rare mood tonight."

"I did have a good visit," I agree with her. "But I am this happy because of my lord. He…teased me at dinner, and I would never have imagined so Alice, but I…enjoyed it."

She heaves a sigh as she picks up my clothes to be laundered. "Such happiness in married life is indeed a blessing, my lady. You are fortunate."

I feel a stab of guilt. I have been so enveloped in Edward that I have forgotten how Alice might be pining after Jasper. My happiness has made me blind to other's sadness.

"Would you like to be married, Alice?" I ask, startling her as she places her hand on the brass handle of the door. I don't want to make her conscious, so I try an indirect approach. "Is there anybody you like enough to take as your husband? I can ask Edward to speak with them on your behalf."

She presses her lips together, and her voice has a quiver when she speaks. "I think marriage is not meant for me, my lady. Thank you for asking." A brave smile, and she continues. "I am quite content serving you, and hope to spend the rest of my life under your protection."

Edward's footstep sounds at the door. Alice opens it, wishes both of us a very good night, and leaves.

I stare after her, trying to figure what is wrong with her. Or did she simply not wish to discuss her personal life with me?

The next second Edward's arms are around me and he is dropping kisses everywhere on my face, my neck, and my shoulders. It makes me laugh and gasp and squirm all at once.

"What deep thoughts were you thinking when I entered your room, sweetheart?" he asks finally when his lips leave my skin, though his hands keep on roaming on my back. It is very distracting.

I see no reason to discuss Alice's sadness with him. It is not like he can do anything about it.

"I was wondering what the servants must be thinking of our antics this evening, my—Edward. I doubt if there is a single soul in the mansion who has not heard of you dismissing the maid and Mrs Stanley so we could be alone in the room."

It is not a lie. I have been thinking about it, even though I am not particularly worried.

"I don't care," he says while his hands move to my behind and presses it so that our lower parts are as close as possible. "I want everybody to know that I am in love with you. It doesn't bother me that they might think it is weak or foolish. I have waited years for this, Bella, to be able to openly call you mine."

His declaration makes me swallow hard. "I don't think it is weak or foolish, Edward. And—I know I haven't said it back yet, but I think I am beginning to fall for you. Your love is changing me in ways I had not imagined possible. Please don't be impatient with me?"

"Never, my darling. You can't imagine how happy your words make me." He smiles, adoration written on his face. "I wish I could take off your gown and make love to you right now, show you how I want to worship you with my body."

His words melt me like ice cream in the sun, but I can also feel him becoming hard, so I decide to tease him.

"Hmm, I think you can show me _something_ right now," I say as I move my hips against his body, making him groan. "In fact, I believe you had promised me. Are you going to keep your word?"

"You vixen," he mutters as he hastens to take off his shirt and places my hand on his pyjamas. It feels as if there is a pole inside, making a tent on the top. "As you can see, I am quite ready. Are you sure it won't shock you?"

The question he asks in a low, concerned tone has me smiling at his thoughtfulness. He is giving me a chance to back out.

But I don't want to.

"Quite sure," I answer, giving the pole a quick squeeze. He half-laughs, half-gasps. "So it does come back on its own? You don't have to do anything?"

"Nothing except look at you, or sometimes just think about you," he answers.

Well, that is interesting.

"Does that happen only when you are in a bedroom?" I ask, remembering where we were in my parents' house.

He snickers. "Not at all. It can happen in any place, and at any time. When I was in France…"

My eyes widen. "What?"

He shrugs. "I thought of you a lot. Since you were not with me, I had to take matters in my own hands."

"So…" I say slowly, trying to put two and two together. "Whenever you thought of me, _that_ happened, and…You must have used your hands a lot then, isn't that so?"

Edward winces. "When you put it like that, it makes me seem so degenerate. But what else could I do?"

I don't want to make him uncomfortable. So I take his hand and lead him to the bed.

"Show me?"

He unties his drawstring and lets his pyjamas drop. Even though I have seen his staff before, its size makes me gasp with astonishment.

"How does that even fit inside me?" I wonder, gaping at its length and thickness.

"Um, because the part of you that sheathes it stretches?"

Evidently I had asked the question aloud. I felt heat stealing up my cheeks and up to my ears.

Before Edward can laugh his head off, I divert his attention.

"What is the wetness for?" I point at the tip of his staff, glistening in the candle light.

"It's…lubrication, see?" Edward makes a loose fist of his hand and moves it so that the wetness spreads to the base, then continues to pump it up and down. "It makes the movement easier."

I am fascinated by his action as well as expression. It seems almost as if he is in pain, but his groans indicate that he is not. How wonderful it must be to be able to please oneself!

Men really have it good. If they are inside a woman, they experience pleasure. If no woman is available, they can please themselves easily.

If only it was true for women too! Though Edward has taught me that women can experience pleasure as well, so maybe there is some way I can please myself?

I will have to ask him when he is not so…lost in pleasure.

His pace increases, and so do his noises. Finally, with a grunt, he lies back on the bed as something whitish comes out of his member and drops on to his stomach.

His eyes are closed, his features completely relaxed, a lazy smile on his lips. There is sweat on his forehead. He does look in a state of bliss.

Then he opens his eyes, and his smile widens. An eyebrow is raised at me in question.

"Well, what do you think Bella?"

I shake my head to break the hypnotised state I was in while watching him.

"I think it's wonderful, Edward. It is so easy for men to achieve pleasure, isn't it?"

He tilts his head towards me. "Hmm, I suppose it is. But it can be a problem too, especially while one is in mixed company."

His statement makes me curious. "Why would that be a problem?"

He looks incredulous. "What do you think? Suppose I am at a party or picnic or a ball, and I have an erection—how do I manage it? It can be painful!"

His words make my forehead wrinkle in thought. Before I can ask my question, he mutters an apology and goes off to clean himself, taking his pyjamas with him.

I sit back against the headboard and wrap my arms around my knees. He mimics my position when he comes back and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"What are you thinking?"

I swallow. "I—I was thinking that…this _erection_ —that's what you call it?"

He pulls me closer. "Yes, because it causes my cock to become erect, or…sometimes we call it becoming rigid or hard…What?" he asks, probably I am shaking with laughter.

"Cock?" I chortle.

"Yes, why?" His lips twitch as he looks at me.

"If that is a cock, does that make my…thing…a hen?"

His laughter joins me then. "I had never thought about it, Love. But now I see it is a funny term. Would you prefer _steed, weapon_ or _truncheon_ instead?"

I purse my lips, thinking. "Steed is good, but I don't like the others. They sound so negative. So, as you were saying, this erection can happen anywhere?" He nods, and I continue. "But can it happen when you look at any woman, or just at me?"

Edward looks like a deer that has been confronted by a lion. He opens his mouth and then closes it without saying anything. Finally he stammers that it _can_ happen for other women, but assures me that it _doesn't_ , not now.

"But it happened earlier?"

"Well, yes, it is a physical reaction Bella. It can't be controlled. But believe me, I don't _want_ any other woman, I haven't in a long time. Only you."

He looks so earnest, I raise my hand and stroke his cheek. He sighs in relief, turns more towards me and kisses me on the lips. It is sweet and slow, but when his tongue slips into my mouth, I begin to feel warm all over.

Somehow we slip down on the bed, our arms around each other and our legs entangled. For long minutes, I enjoy the closeness, the warmth, the tingling sensations coursing through my body that our kisses and caresses bring about.

When we finally let go, our eyes are droopy with satiation. But before falling asleep, I want to clarify one more thing.

"Edward, can a woman please herself the way a man does?"

His lips rise on one side. "Yes, she can? But why are you asking?"

I shrug. "Will you teach me how to do that? I wish to learn."

His eyes darken as he looks into mine. "I will, but know this Bella, as long as I am around you won't need to do that. I will give you all the orgasms you want."

"Orgasm?"

He huffs. "The feeling of intense pleasure at the end of lovemaking, also known as _sweet death_ or _sting of pleasure_. You felt that when we made love, did you not?"

"I did," I assure him. "Ugh, I wish I did not have to wait three more nights."

He chuckles. "I wish the same, sweetheart. But I promise, I will make up for the lost nights."

* * *

 **A.N.** : So that's it! We will have more serious matters at hand ( ha, hand!) next time.

Story Rec's: A May to December Romance by Positively 4th street. Trust me, you don't want to miss this.

Edroar the Angry Lion by Tropical Sorbet. This story owns my heart!

Curve Ball by Stace Leo. Laugh-riot from start to finish! I read the whole trilogy last week.


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you for the love you showered on the last chapter. Apparently you love the teasing banter between Bella and Edward as much as the sexy times between them!

This chapter is a little late, but it is also longer than others. It took me some time to get into Elizabeth's mind, but now I know what she wants to say.

Not beta'ed.

 **Chapter-22**

At breakfast, Edward writes a note to his mother and asks Jasper to take it to her. He looks up to find me watching him intently.

"What?" he smiles. It is just a smile, yet it makes my heart flutter.

Since the thoughts rising in my mind are not suitable to be revealed at the breakfast table, I ask him something else I had been wondering about.

"Does your mother mind that you married me?" He cocks an eyebrow, so I explain my question. "I mean, not _me_ really, but a widow. Anthony's widow, to be specific. Does it seem odd to her?"

He nods in understanding. "Oh, I see. Not to my knowledge, and really, I don't think so. Marrying one's cousin's widow, or in some cases one's brother's is not that unusual, you know? The family members prefer to keep the money and property as it is, instead of sharing it with an outsider. My mother is aware that James asked me to marry you for this very reason."

"That's a relief," I murmur. "I wasn't sure if she thought well of me, if she even wanted to meet me. I was afraid I would be imposing upon her."

Edward gives me a soft look. "Of course you won't be imposing upon her, Bella. She has been wanting to meet you since before the wedding, but I held her back, thinking you were probably not ready for that kind of chitchat. And after we were married, I wanted you to be comfortable around me first. My mother...she will probably talk your ear off," he gives a sheepish laugh, "she is somewhat biased in her opinion where I am concerned. Maybe all mothers are; I don't know for sure."

I take a sip of tea to help the piece of toast I have been chewing go down easily. "I am sure whatever she will say will be within the reach of truth, my lord. From what I have seen, you have many good qualities, and nothing a mother wouldn't be proud to boast of."

My words affect Edward more than I had imagined they would, for he looks more like a shy boy than the man he is now, the tips of his ears turning red. For a second he reminds me of the Edward he was before he left for France, but then the expression passes and he gives me a confident wink.

"In that case, you won't believe any stories she might tell of my being a naughty child, will you? You can verify that I am good through and through, can't you?"

I laugh aloud, amused at his flirtatious behaviour. "I will verify that you are a good _husband_ ," I stressed. "But if she chooses to entertain me with tales of your childhood, I certainly won't stop her!"

He sighs and pouts, actually pouts like Lizzie when she doesn't get her favourite toy to play with, but it only makes me laugh more. He turns to Mrs Stanley, who has just entered the room, and appeals to her fairness, but she smiles and declines to interfere.

Jasper comes back with a short note from Mrs Masen just as we finish the meal. Edward reads it and laughs.

"She says she is ecstatic that you want to visit her," he states. "I knew it, Bella. Now she will forget me completely; she will love you so much."

I shake my head at him. "Let us go see Lizzie before we leave. I want to tell her that we might be late for the riding lesson."

I expect Lizzie to be disappointed, but she seems more curious, asking questions like who am I meeting and where does she live and most importantly, if she would want Lizzie to call her grandmother.

I tell her that I will ask her but it is very likely that she will like the address. I also promise her to arrange a visit for her soon.

Elizabeth's house is situated perhaps a mile away from our mansion. It is neither pretentious nor poor, just a normal red-brick double-storey house with a gabled roof. The tiles are slate-grey and the trim a darker red. Smoke is rising lazily from the square chimney on the top, indicating that cooking is going on in the kitchen. Edward opens the little white gate set in a low brick wall and we walk arm-in-arm to the welcoming white door, just two steps above the ground. There is no drive, short or long, as there is not enough distance between the gate and the house.

I notice a few flowering shrubs in the small garden in the front, and a tiny kitchen garden to the left. There are tall trees behind the house, framing it in a picturesque manner. The overall effect is homely but charming.

Edward raises his hand to knock, but the door opens suddenly to reveal Elizabeth. She is dressed in a simple blue gown, her hair in a low bun with a few tendrils escaping. For the first time I notice the similarity in the colour of their hair, though Edward's hair has more hues than his mother's. Also, her hair has a few strands of grey.

Much more important than her appearance is the wide smile she greets us with, the enthusiasm in her handshake, though Edward is given a quick hug. He clears his throat in an embarrassed manner and introduces us formally.

"Come in, come in!" Elizabeth rubs her hands and beams at us. "I am so happy to see you, Isabella. May I call you Isabella, or do you prefer Lady Masen?"

I shudder at the grim-sounding title. "I definitely prefer Isabella from you, Mrs Masen. The staff addresses me as _my lady_ , and some of our guests have used LadyIsabella, but nobody calls me Lady Masen. It sounds so strange!"

She smiles. "Isabella it is then. Come into the sun room. It is so nice at this time of the day. Would you care for some tea?"

"We just had breakfast, Mamma," Edward answers as we follow his mother into a small room full of sunshine. The floor to ceiling glass forms a curved wall, and a long window opens into the garden, bringing in cool, refreshing breeze. There are wrought iron chairs with cushions, and a table on which some knitting is lying. There are also a couple of women's magazines. It must be Elizabeth's favourite place during the summer days.

"Perhaps later then," she says, almost like a question. I smile and nod, and we take our seats.

To be honest, I had not expected her to be this cheerful. From what I remember of her on my wedding day and the one meeting we had when I was still Anthony's wife, she had been subdued to the point of being melancholy, hardly a smile appearing on her thin face. My mother had been favourably impressed though, so perhaps their conversation had been satisfactory even though it must have been brief.

And yet, here she is, warm and kind and almost…happy. What is it that has made so much difference?

Elizabeth asks me about married life, or rather married life with Edward, about the improvements I might have planned for the mansion and its gardens, what I think of Edward's idea of breeding and racing horses and about Lizzie. It is quite obvious that the last subject really lights her up.

"Oh, she is such a darling," she gushes, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I could not take my eyes off her at the reception! I wish I had had the opportunity to meet her before."

Of course I agree with her that Lizzie is precious. I also invite her to the mansion to meet her, and then I ask her if she would like to meet my mother as well.

Her smile does not falter, but she pauses before answering as she gives Edward a look. It is almost like a question.

Edward shakes his head very briefly, and Elizabeth confirms that she would like to pay us a visit as soon as possible. But what was that silent conversation about?

Mentioning my mother leads to the subject of my parents and siblings, and also my childhood. All these questions might have reminded me of Lady Delaney's nosiness, except that it doesn't. Firstly, Elizabeth is Edward's mother, which gives her the right to know more about me and my parents. Secondly, and more importantly, her manner is so unassuming and gentle, and her smile so delighted at my answers that I cannot think her questions as intrusive in the least. It is very clear that she wishes to know me better as Edward's wife, but also as myself. She makes me feel like I matter as a person, not just as a countess.

Edward is as attentive to my answers as his mother, even though he already knows some of it. However, as soon as I ask Elizabeth about Edward's childhood, he begins to get restless.

"I think it is time for us to leave, Isabella. Lizzie must be waiting for us to go riding."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow towards him and gives him a look that only a mother can give to her child, even though he may be a grown up man. "Is that the only reason you must leave, Edward? Or do you not wish Isabella to know more about you?"

He grins sheepishly. "I am only afraid you will tell her what a scamp I was as a child, that is all. She is already adept at teasing me; your tales will give her even more ammunition!"

The smile his mother gives him is so full of mischief that it alters her face considerably, bringing a sparkle to her eyes and making her look years younger. Its similarity with her son's smile when he is in a teasing mood takes my breath away.

"Well, if you promise to visit more often, perhaps I can contain myself a little?" she asks, laughter in her voice. "I promise to tell her only the least embarrassing stories in that case. Is that all right with you?"

Edward groans. "I knew this would happen! Fine, I will visit more often, but I can't sit here and listen to those tales. I will go for a walk."

Elizabeth invites me upstairs once Edward has left.

"There are a couple of portraits I want you to see," she explains as I follow her up a modestly curving wooden staircase. On the wall by the landing, there is a large portrait of a newly married couple. I stand in front of it and stare curiously.

The painter has chosen a sunny morning in a garden as the backdrop, so there is plenty of brightness. Edward's mother and father are standing in a shrubbery in their wedding finery. They look young and happy and very much in love.

His father was quite tall, perhaps as tall as Edward, with the same lanky build. His features resemble Edward's a lot, though he has a moustache. I can't imagine Edward with one, but it suits his father.

"It was unusual to get a portrait painted in one's wedding attire, but Mr Masen insisted," says Elizabeth softly, an indulgent smile on her face. "He was a good man, content with the simple life of a pastor, but he could be stubborn at times."

Her expression is nostalgic. There is definitely a story behind the portrait. However, I don't think I am familiar enough with her to ask what it is. Later on, when we have known each other well and if she wants to share it with me, I will be happy to listen.

"Did you know him before?" I ask, looking at the smiling young woman in the painting. Surely her happiness is more than the joy of being married? Surely it has something to do with the man standing beside her in a long coat and a polished top hat?

She nods. "Yes, I did. My father was a baron, not a very rich one, but we did all right. He had taken my mother and me to London when I was introduced to the society. It was at one of the many balls we attended that we came across the Masen family."

"Was James—Lord Masen already married then?" I ask, thinking that Elizabeth's father would have preferred her to marry the elder son of the house if he was available.

She smiles, understanding my question. "No, he wasn't, but when I met them, I just gravitated towards Edward's father. Luckily he seemed to reciprocate my feelings. We were married six months later."

We move on to the next portrait, a much smaller one. A boy of perhaps five or six years of age stands straight against the blue sky, with a few clouds swirling grey. The seashore is visible behind him, the waves almost lapping at his feet. He is wearing a light blue shirt with short sleeves and knee-length shorts, and carries a fishing tackle on his shoulder. Reddish-brown curls are falling over his forehead, his eyes are alight with happiness and his smile is wide and exultant.

"Edward?" I whisper, forgetting that I should not be taking his first name. Before I can correct myself, Elizabeth nods, her eyes misty. I bite my tongue.

"He had just caught his first fish, and he was so proud of himself," she says, seemingly living that moment again. "My husband made a quick sketch of him, and later contacted a painter to turn it into a portrait. It seems just like yesterday."

She sighs quietly, her smile momentarily overshadowed by sadness. Then she shakes her head and comes back to the present. I look for a question that might distract her.

"His father used to sketch?"

Her smile is bright again. "Oh yes, he was really good at it. If you like, I will show you some of his sketches. Have you seen the portraits at the mansion, by the way?"

I had indeed seen the portraits of the Masen ancestors, all lord this and lady that. Most of them appeared stiff-lipped if not scowling, except a couple who had tried a formal-looking smile. James was even worse, condescension dripping from his expression and a smirk firmly sitting on his thin lips. Frankly, I found him utterly repulsive.

"I have, but I find most of them quite grim," I confess, trying to be as polite as possible. Perhaps she didn't had an equal aversion to those portraits? She _was_ a baron's daughter, after all. "These two are different—so full of life."

She chuckled. "You can say that you don't like the ones in the Masen Hall. I don't mind. I have always found formal portraits a bit of bore anyway. I am glad Edward didn't have to sit for one as a child. Anyway, I am asking because there used to be a couple of sketches my husband had done for the family. Have you seen them?"

My forehead wrinkles in thought. "I haven't visited the gallery for years, Mrs Masen, but I am sure I would have remembered if there would have been any sketches among the portraits. I believe I have never seen any sketches in any part of the mansion. I'm sorry."

She nods slowly. "It's all right, dear. I almost expected that. James must have removed them from the collection long ago. I only wish he had given them to me."

"Uh," I begin timidly, "is it a fair assumption that the two brothers didn't get along? You don't have to tell me if it's not something you want to talk about…"

Elizabeth's smile is sad. "You are Edward's wife. There is no need to keep secrets from you. No, they didn't get along, they were just too different. And my getting married to Edward's father didn't help any."

I stare at her, confused. Why would James mind their getting married? Unless he…

"No, he didn't have feelings for me," says Elizabeth as if she read my mind. This is perhaps another thing common between Edward and his mother. "I doubt he has feelings for _anybody_. But you must have noticed how possessive he is?"

I nod in agreement. James really treats people as if they are his property.

"He didn't like that he was not given the option to either select or reject me, I think. As the elder brother, he expected to be asked first, and indeed that is what would have happened had I not been already enthralled by the younger brother. He never forgave us for that breach of propriety."

I shake my head in wonder. How can anyone be so entitled, so full of himself? And yet it matches with the little information Edward had shared with me long ago.

"Edward told me that he asked you to look after Anthony though. Do you think his wife's death changed him in any way?"

"Oh yes, the poor boy, losing his mother when he was a mere toddler," she murmurs, her face darkening as she remembers. "To answer your question, no, James didn't change. Not for better, anyway. He asked me only because he didn't trust the servants, not even the Stanleys very much. I was to supervise what they were doing, if Anthony's governess was teaching him well, if the servants were doing their jobs honestly, thinks like those. There was nobody else he could have asked."

I gape at her in astonishment. "How could he ask you to do all that? You had your own family to look after, didn't you?

She shrugs. "I couldn't refuse. He was family too, whatever his faults. Also, I didn't mind looking after Anthony; he was an angelic child. Edward was perhaps four months old then." Her eyes become wistful, as does her voice. "At first Anthony thought he was a toy. When he understood that he was a real baby, he became impatient for him to get up and play with him, asking why Edward didn't sit or stand on his own." A little smile forms on her lips. "They developed a wonderful bond as they grew up together. I was grateful for that at least."

She shows me the room Edward used to occupy before he left for France, the same one he had as a child, although the furniture had been changed as he grew up.

I get to see a whole sketchbook full of pictures of Edward, Anthony and Elizabeth. It is amazing how expressive pictures drawn using only a charcoal pencil can be. I can't help but coo over the gleeful expressions of the cousins as they ride their rocking horses or examine a plant in the garden, hands and face muddy with their activity. There is one in which both of them are sitting in Elizabeth's lap, holding a doll each in their chubby hands.

"Edward played with dolls?" This I am going to use to tease him some time.

"Oh yes," she almost giggles, "both of them were fond of dolls. Lord only knew what stories they spun around them—kings and queens, princes and pirates. They had a wild imagination!"

She narrates a couple of tales where the cousins had got into trouble, one of them involving a pony and a plan to travel the world together. I can't stop laughing over their adventures, all of them in a radius of three miles from the house.

"Mister Masen and I followed them discreetly while they met various people from the village and pretended to be either royalty or pirates as the fancy took them. Finally they had enough of wandering and got hungry, and Edward began to cry. Anthony was pretty much near tears too. When they saw us, Anthony tried to pretend that he was a soldier who had lost his way, and could we recommend an inn for him and his companion to spend the night. Edward just jumped into my arms and said he wanted his dinner."

The last part makes both of us smile as well as become teary-eyed. Children!

Elizabeth orders tea to be brought to the sun room, and Edward makes his appearance soon after. Once he has confirmed from his mother that she will be at the hall for lunch the next day, we take our leave.

My mind is full of thoughts and queries. Elizabeth seems to be much more than the image I had in my mind; that of a woman who had lost her husband too early and her child when he had just become a man—at least for a few years. She has personality, charm and wit, and is cordial towards me.

Hopefully, she will share with me more of the past soon, the secrets lurking in the shadows of fear and tyranny. I want to know everything that she and Edward went through.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter-22 A**

The long conversation with Elizabeth means I am late for Lizzie's riding lesson. Edward hastens to his office as he is expecting a visitor, apologising for being unable to join us, but I assure him it is all right. I understand that he has a lot on his shoulders. It is not possible for him to spend every morning with us, much as I would like him to.

Just before entering the house, he kisses me on the cheek, saying it is for Lizzie and I should give it to her. Then he looks around and gives me a quick but hard kiss on the lips that leaves them tingling.

"Edward!"

"This is for me," he explains with the now familiar twinkle in his eyes. "It will keep me going until I see you again this evening."

I shake my head, but I can't help smiling. He is going to scandalise the servants with his behaviour, but somehow I can't bring myself to care too much.

Lizzie is excited to hear that Edward's mother is visiting us tomorrow. She asks me a dozen questions while we proceed to the stables, wanting to know everything about Elizabeth and her house. When I tell her that Elizabeth found her adorable on the wedding day and is eager to meet her, her face lights up with unadulterated joy.

After our ride, I send a note to my mother inviting her to lunch the next day. I also mention that Edward's mother will be joining us, and ask if she could bring Angela with her.

An hour later, I have her answer. She has thanked me and expressed her pleasure at the opportunity of meeting Elizabeth, and assured me that my sister will be with her.

I immediately inform Mrs Stanley and ask her suggestions for lunch. She has a few ideas, and both of us agree that it should be kept light. I am not sure if Edward will join us or not, but I do know that he doesn't eat much at noon. A refreshing cold soup and some sandwiches should suffice, and later on we can have a nice tea with pies and scones, either apple or cherry ones, with jam and clotted cream.

I also ask the housekeeper if Elizabeth has any particular likes or dislikes, but she shakes her head.

"Mrs Masen is not fussy about meals, my lady," she says with a soft smile. "Not that she has been here much, but I remember this about her. It will be nice to see her again." The last sentence she says as if making the remark to herself.

Edward confirms her words later in the evening, adding that his mother would be happiest if we were to treat her as a family member and not as a guest.

"She already loves you, sweetheart. Just be yourself and don't worry about formalities, and she will keep on visiting." He looked at me thoughtfully. "Of course, if the visits become too much for you, just let me know and I will give her a hint."

I huff a laugh. I doubt if Elizabeth will overstay her welcome. She seems to me very sensitive to other people's feelings.

He is right, of course. The visit is a success. Elizabeth and my mother get on well, and they shower Lizzie with affection. They also have the patience that most people reserve for their grandchildren. She commands them to visit her dolls and hear the latest adventures they have been through. It seems the dolls have recently travelled to India, and Lizzie wants them dressed in the finery the royal families of that country wear traditionally.

"I have asked the seamstress to make some clothes for them out of this book," explains Maggie with a fond smile. She shows us a book that has a lot of pictures in it. From overdressed kings and queens carrying bejewelled swords and sceptres to half-naked street musicians carrying a string instrument or a wooden flute, from majestic lions and tigers to preening peacocks, there is a lot to see. I know that Maggie believes in a wholesome education. The more a child is familiar with the people of this world, the less prejudiced she will be when she grows up. Edward and I support her wholeheartedly.

Edward joins us for lunch, but he is too busy to stay longer, so he makes his apologies and leaves us as soon as we have finished eating. However, he is very attentive to all of us while he stays. I already know how easy his interaction is with his mother, but I am sure he has added to the favourable impression my mother and sister have of him.

"You are fortunate to have him as your husband, Isabella," remarks my mother after he has left us. Angela nods in agreement, looking somewhat starry-eyed. I can't blame her. Even though she is about to get married, she can't help appreciating Edward's looks and charm.

I do tease her a little, in return for her remarks the other day.

"Focus on your soon to-be husband, Angela," I tell her, and she blushes a delicate pink. "What will Mr Cheney think if he knew that you find mine so beautiful?"

"I didn't say anything—" she begins to stammer, but stops as Elizabeth and my mother begin to laugh. I join them after a second.

"She is having fun at your expense, dear," says Elizabeth kindly. Angela glares at me, but then she too laughs.

"Well, you can't fault me for agreeing with my mother, can you?" she parries, and then turns to Elizabeth. "Don't you agree with me, Mrs Masen? Isn't Isabella fortunate to have Lord Edward as her husband?"

Elizabeth smiles and raises her hands in a pacifying gesture. "Well, I am his mother. Of course I think he is good-looking and wonderful. But perhaps Isabella can give us an unbiased opinion."

I feel my face heating up. "Um, I am indeed fortunate that he is my husband, Mrs Masen. He truly is a wonderful man, kind and patient."

Elizabeth beams as if I have paid her the highest kind of compliment. Perhaps I have. I am sure if someone praised Lizzie, either now or in future, I will be smiling an equally wide smile.

"I hope you will give me an opportunity to play with another grandchild soon, Isabella, and not wait until I have a bent back and bad knees," says my mother in a light-hearted manner.

I, however, feel hot all over. "Mother!"

"What?" she asks innocently. "I am just reminding you that time is passing and I am not getting any younger. You know I adore Lizzie, but I would dearly love to see a few more angels running around here when I visit you." She looks around with a sigh. "This house is grand, but I always felt that it needed more…life in it. There has been a definite improvement since your wedding with Lord Edward, but children—they are the ones who really fill a house with love and laughter."

It is not the first time my mother has expressed her wish of having more grandchildren. The topic has been raised while I was Anthony's wife, though never in his presence. He was seldom around when my mother visited, in any case.

In those days my mother's words did not affect me much, except causing a twinge in my heart, knowing very well that no other children would be born to me and Anthony. Not until he forgave me and resumed our marital relations. And so I would smile and lie to my mother, telling her that there would be more children when it was God's will. She would sigh, and that would be the end of the matter.

Now however things have changed completely. I am married to a man who loves me and finds me beautiful, and demonstrates it with great enthusiasm. I have no doubt that I will bear many children to him. The thought fills me with happiness. Still, I am not comfortable with discussing this in front of his mother because the thought of having his children naturally leads to the activities that make children.

As I have observed, Elizabeth is very sensitive towards other people. Deftly she changes the topic, but in a manner that does not hurt my mother's feelings. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Soon after my mother and sister take their leave. Elizabeth says she too must leave and assures me that it has been a most enjoyable day for her. Her words remind me of something I wish to ask her.

"If you don't mind, Mrs Masen," I begin with some hesitation, "you seemed a little sad on our wedding day. I hope the reception didn't remind you of anything painful."

Though I don't phrase it as a question, my tone makes it one. Of course, Elizabeth is not obliged to answer me.

She smiles rather wistfully, a quiet sigh escaping her.

"Not painful, Isabella," she begins in her soft voice, her hands resting on the back of the chair she is standing behind. I don't think she is using it as a support though; her back remains straight. "At least, not completely painful. It was more a mix of memories and feelings, perhaps some hope for the future as well. I was remembering so many things—my wedding, Edward and Anthony as children, losing my husband, James ruling over everybody here like a tyrant…"

She became quiet, clearly lost in memories. I almost didn't want to speak, but I wanted more answers, if she was willing.

"You hardly came over while Anthony was alive."

She nods, understanding my unasked question. Her eyes are grave as they look straight into mine.

"After my husband passed away, James began to drop hints that I should marry him. Fortunately he was away more than he was here on the estate, but when he was he would hound me constantly. I refused every time, of course, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. It came to the stage when I grew scared of setting foot in this mansion. He had a way of arriving here unannounced and accosting me as soon as he sent the boys to play outside or ride their horses."

A shudder passes through her thin frame. I can only imagine how terrified she must have been of James. I see her knuckles whiten and want to comfort her.

"Once he crossed a line…I was only saved because Mrs Stanley came into the room to ask a question about dinner. Perhaps she knew I needed help. After that I stopped bringing Edward here. Instead I asked Anthony's governess to bring him to my house so they could play together. Of course, once they grew up a little, the need to supervise them lessened."

I take a sharp breath at James being so much of a cad. It is not surprising, but it still shocks me.

"And when Anthony and I were here? You still didn't feel comfortable?" I try not to be too nosy, but I am not sure I succeed.

She shrugs lightly. "I suppose it had become a habit with me. Of course I knew James wouldn't try anything after all those years, but it was much easier to remain in my own house, my sanctuary. Thankfully, it was free of any bad memories related to James. He hardly ever paid us a visit while my husband was alive, and never after his death. Perhaps he realised that people would talk behind his back if he was seen there. Also, it is a small house and one or other of the servants was always nearby."

I shake my head. "How wrong I was! I imagined you just preferred solitude, you know?"

"I do prefer solitude, but I also like to see Edward frequently, and now you and Lizzie. I also have a couple of old friends in the village and we get together off and on. And now that Edward and you are married and James is unlikely to come back any time soon, I might be able to visit this mansion too. It does not seem as scary as before."

Esme leaves then, giving me much to think about. I wonder if Edward knows the whole reason behind his mother's avoidance of the Masen Manor. I decide not to discuss it with him. If Esme hasn't revealed it to him, then it is not my place to do so. If she has, it is not a pleasant topic to visit.

Two more days pass, and two more nights of sweet words and longing touches. Finally I am free of the rag.

Edward wakes me up in the morning with light kisses. Even before I open my eyes, I am smiling.

And when I do open my eyes, it is to find a matching, if not bigger smile on his face.

"Tonight?" he asks hopefully.

I nod, suddenly feeling shy. It is silly, but the gap of a few days has made me feel as if Edward is a stranger again. Or at least his body is. Emotionally we have become closer, talking about our life and our dreams.

It will be nice to know his body again, so that is something to look forward to.

He beams as if I have given him the world with that one nod.

"I will be waiting this whole day, darling."

"So will I."

He leaves the room with a spring in his step. I would have teased him if I wasn't feeling the same.

I don't see Edward until dinner. When I do, I am ready to take his hand and drag him to my room. Really, I had never imagined in my wildest dreams that I could be that eager to have marital relations with my husband.

Of course, I didn't know then how much pleasure one could gain from it!

Throughout the dinner we exchange these little glances and secretive smiles. Maybe the servants notice, or maybe they don't. It doesn't matter to me because I am in a world of my own, where Edward is the only other person I can see. I have no idea what food I put in my mouth and what it tastes like; I am only aware of Edward and his hands and his mouth and what magic they can work on my skin.

Finally we are done. We thank Mrs Stanley for an excellent meal and she bows with a smile of her own. If I didn't trust Alice to blabber, I would think she has informed our housekeeper of what exactly has been going on with me for the past five days!

Come to think of it, very little passes by her eagle eye, so it is quite possible that she knows why Edward and I have been exchanging silly smiles this evening. Oh, well.

Edward whispers in my ear that he will see me very soon and leaves for his room. It seems I will have to hurry with my ablutions tonight.

I have barely finished patting my face dry when there is a double knock on the door. Alice smiles at me and goes to open it. As soon as Edward enters, she takes her leave of us. She knows by now that Edward is impatient to be alone with me.

It is a good decision on her part, for Edward bolts the door quickly and then enfolds me in a passionate embrace while raining kisses on my face and neck and shoulders.

"Please tell me that you too are eager for this, my sweet," he says when he stops kissing me.

"I am eager for this," I admit unashamedly. Even if I had not spoken the words, my quickened breath and my flushed cheeks would have outed me.

"I will brush your hair afterwards," he groans, pulling at my nightgown. "I can't wait anymore to be close to you, Bella. I've missed you so much."

I have no difference of opinion on this subject, so I help him take my gown off, and his clothes are discarded in an even greater hurry. Before I know it, we are in bed, completely exposed to each other. This time I don't avert my eyes but rather drink in the sight of his masculine beauty, the same way he is drinking mine. I appreciate the width of his shoulders, the strength of his arms and the hardness of his muscles. I like the way the hair on his chest tapers as it makes its way to his narrow hips. And I very much like the enthusiasm his cock is showing, searching for my bower as our bodies skim each other's.

His fingers test me and find me wet and ready. He apologises for the lack of foreplay, but frankly, I just want him inside me, so I tell him.

Finally we are joined together. Edward stills for a moment, eyes closed and pleasure etched on his face. Then he kisses me once more and begins to move. At first his strokes are slow and deep, making me cry out. My cries seem to spur him, for his pace quickens and his strokes shorten. Soon the whole bed is shaking as we move back and forth. I am not even crying out now; my breath hitches with every jolt I receive and every sound he makes.

And then there is this incredible feeling rising inside me, lifting me as if I am weightless and making me shiver all over. For that one moment, I am nothing but a vessel brimming with unbelievable pleasure. I hold on to Edward so that I don't float away like a leaf in the breeze.

Conscience finds me in a while. I am wound around my husband, my skin cooling slowly and the sweat drying, except where it is in contact with his skin. I feel some of his weight. I feel his lips on my hair.

When I shiver, he pulls up the duvet from the foot of the bed and covers both of us. I nod off before I can think of anything to say.

The candle is still burning when my eyes open, so it can't have been very long. I feel satiated after days. My back is against Edward's chest, my front caged in his arms. His breath falls soft and warm on my temple, moving my hair just a little with every exhale.

As much as I wish to revel in the warmth surrounding me, I have an urgent need to use the privy. Very carefully I wiggle out of his embrace, put on my gown and proceed to the small adjoining room, happy that he remains sleeping undisturbed.

However, when I come back I find him in his pyjamas, standing in front of my dressing table and twirling a hair brush in his long fingers. I laugh quietly at the unexpected sight.

He shrugs. "I did promise to brush your hair, didn't I?"

"Aren't you sleepy?" I ask even as I willingly sit on the cushioned stool. He takes a seat on another one behind me.

He begins to brush my hair, one lock at a time. He is so careful, detangling it with his fingers before passing the brush through them that I feel no pain. I look at him curiously as he smiles wistfully.

"It may sound strange, my darling, but just as I like to sleep holding you close, I like being awake with you too," he explains, bringing a lock close to his face and taking a deep breath. "Your hair always smells so nice."

"It's the lavender oil Alice puts in my…bath." My voice breaks as he puts the brush away and begins to twist my hair in a coil. His fingers skim my neck, raising goosebumps.

"Can you put it up in a bun?"

I frown but pin the coil up with a few pins. He usually prefers it down, so I don't understand why he wants it up right now.

And then he makes me stand and presses himself against me, and I know.

"I want to you again, like this. Is that all right?" he whispers.

There is a frisson of anticipation running through my body. How is this possible that a few whispered words set me on fire for him?

And what does he mean by 'like this'?

"You want me to remain standing?"

"Not quite." He holds my hands and puts them on the table. "Just…bend a little." I do, still looking at his image in the mirror. "Yes, like that."

He lifts my gown from the back and tucks the hem inside the neck. I can't see my back in the mirror, but just knowing that I am bare to him makes me shiver. My heart is already beating faster as his hands stroke my hips and thighs, and then one finger is inside me and I am quivering with desire.

My eyes remain glued to his in the mirror as he adds another finger and strokes me, making me bite my lip and move my hips. His words add to the sensual experience, and soon I am shaking and crying out, and then he drops his pyjamas and enters me with a couple of thrusts. My eyes close as I feel the rich fullness.

"One day…" he murmurs in my ear as his hands wander upwards and cup my breasts, "I will take you in front of this mirror while you are completely naked, Bella, and I will ask you to keep your eyes open."

Not only my face but my whole body heats up at the image his words present. I imagine watching my breasts bounce as he thrusts inside me, my secret part visible to both of us.

"Will you like that, Bella?" he continues as he squeezes my breasts, making them hard. "Do you want to watch my cock driving in and out of your quim? Does the idea make you feel anything?"

"It makes me feel…wanton," I answer in a breathless voice as he moves back, partially withdrawing. Then he comes back forcefully, and my eyes fly open with shock. He notices, of course, and smiles lustfully.

"Good."

And with that one word, he starts pulling out and pushing in in earnest. All thought stops right there as my mind focuses on the one point where we are joined again and again. His hands fondle and pinch my breasts in turn and run all over my front while I try to keep my hands steady on the dresser. At least it is big and heavy and not likely to topple over with the force he is exerting!

His eyes keep mine a prisoner until I can't keep them open. I scream his name as a wave of pleasure washes over me, engulfing me completely.

When it recedes, I find myself lying on the bed, with my head on Edward's chest and my right leg draped over his.

"When did you…Did you carry me to the bed?" I ask lazily, not particularly bothered by the answer.

"Um-hmm." There is a smile in his hum. "You don't remember?"

"No," I mumble as I yawn widely, and feel his chest shake with laughter. "I think I fell unconscious. Does that usually happen?"

"Only after a very good round of sexual activity, so I have been told," he says, sounding smug. But I can't even be bothered with chiding him for that; I feel that tired.

"Sleep, my darling."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter-23**

The next two weeks pass quickly. Edward's passion for me does not diminish, nor my desire for him. In fact, it only increases with time. The nights are the best, because we are together then, and though we know there are other people in the manor, we like to pretend that we are alone for a few hours. Neither our daily tasks nor our responsibilities to the estate can interfere with our closeness.

Sometimes we make love in a hurry, impatient to take our clothes off and immerse ourselves in each other. The candle light no longer bothers me. Instead I learn to appreciate Edward's body—lean, hard, his muscles flexing above me with every movement. I learn his reactions too. When I tug at his hair, he makes a sort of growling sound. When I scratch his back lightly, he increases his pace.

At other times, we do it slowly, leisurely, worshipping each other's body with tender caresses and sweet kisses. We don't even care if we reach that blissful stage of climax because the whole journey is delightful. Well, Edward mostly does; he says it is almost impossible for a man _not_ to. He is always ready to bring me the same pleasure, but sometimes I just want to drift off, revelling in his closeness, the feel of his skin against mine, his smell surrounding me.

Whenever I take the initiative, it pleases Edward greatly. He is also very eager to try anything new. Whether it is both of us sitting on a cushioned chair or I lying down on the bed on my stomach while he stands behind me and holds onto my thighs, he is always suggesting new positions. Even if I find them strange at first, I trust him and know they would bring me pleasure.

He does shock me once, when he suggests that he will put his mouth on me. I cannot imagine a man doing such a thing. When he notices my reluctance, he says that I should take it as an experiment. If I do not like it, he will not repeat it in the future.

However, once I relax and let him do what he wants to, I must say that I enjoy it, very much so. After thinking about it for two nights, I ask him if I can do the same for him. He looks at me as if I have offered the world to him!

I am somewhat cautious in my approach, but he doesn't lose patience. In fact, he is extra gentle with me, encouraging me but also reminding me that I can stop any time I want to. I am proud to say that I take him almost to the end, when he orders me to move away and finishes the rest with his hands.

When I ask him where he learnt all these things, he mumbles something about a book called Kamasutra he got his hands on while he was living in France. I am not sure whether to believe him or not. Is it possible that a wise man in ancient India observed people and wrote a whole book about intimacy and it various forms? How was it that nobody stopped him from making it public? Was it meant only for men, or were woman allowed to read it as well?

I say that nights are the best, but that does not mean that I like the days any less. We work as a team, supporting the other person even though our tasks are very different. Sometimes we don't see each other all day, but it only makes the evening sweeter.

And always he makes time for Lizzie in the morning, however pressing the day ahead may be. Her smile lights up the room when she sees us after the breakfast, and the time we spend outdoors is so very enjoyable. We ride and talk and Lizzie and I sometimes wander in the garden when Edward is busy with work. The summer days stretch long and lazy, and we chat with the gardener about the new flowering shrubs he has planted in this season.

One day we take Lizzie to Elizabeth's house so that she can see where her grandmother lives. She is as excited as a grown up would be to be going on a world tour, perhaps more.

Elizabeth welcomes us warmly, but it is quite evident that most of her attention is fixed on Lizzie. She answers all the questions her new granddaughter has, not just patiently but happily, and there are many of them. Has she always lived in this house? Where did she live before? Where are her parents now? Does she see them sometime?

The paintings on the first floor and some of the sketches bring on more questions. She wants to know if there is any picture of Anthony as a child, becomes sad when I tell her that no, the only picture we have of him is when he was a grown up. However, the next second the sadness is chased away by another question. Can she have a picture of her, with all her dolls? Maybe one in which Edward and I are also sitting with her?

I am hesitant to have my portrait painted, but both Elizabeth and Edward think it is an excellent idea. While Lizzie is telling me which might be the best garden for us to sit for the picture, they are deciding upon which painter to invite to the mansion. Their enthusiasm makes me smile.

Elizabeth asks Edward if he had any plans to invite guests to the estate this summer, but he shakes his head.

"I want to have this time to ourselves, Mamma," he answers. "In fact, I do not care much for James' idea of inviting so many people to our house. I realise that it brings revenue to the estate and provides employment to the villagers, but now that we are going to breed and sell horses and expand the stables, much of that will be taken care of."

He addresses me then, asking if I agreed with the idea of having fewer guests during the summer. "I would prefer to invite people whom we like and are friends with," he explains earnestly. "Why should we impose upon ourselves company that we don't care for? But it is up to you, Bella. If you _like_ having guests all summer…"

I don't, and I tell him that I agree with him completely. We will continue with the Christmas ball, of course, but even that might not be as large as it used to be.

Speaking of balls, today is the one we have been invited to, by my aunt Esme and her husband Carlisle. For a change, I am actually looking forward to it.

Edward insisted that I get a new dress made for the ball. When I very reasonably pointed out to him that I had many gowns that were perfectly suitable for the occasion, he kissed me into pliability and said we were newly married and people expected me to have a fully new wardrobe.

"Please, Bella," he murmured in my ear even as his hands roamed across my back, making me lose my train of thought. "I am not asking you to deck yourself in silks and diamonds on a daily basis; I know you don't like them. Just get a few dresses made. Please?"

By then his warmth and closeness had pretty much subdued my objections. I think I would have agreed to anything he would have asked.

"Okay," I answered. "Will you please take off your shirt now?"

He beamed at me and chucked off his clothes in a second. And I forgot what we had been speaking of and lost myself in him.

In the morning, the seamstress was there just as we were finishing breakfast.

While she was happily taking my measurements and suggesting styles, I looked at Edward with wide eyes. He smiled, gave me a chaste kiss and left us after instructing the giddy woman to make half a dozen gowns for me, suitable for different occasions.

When I mouthed 'half a dozen?' to him, he mouthed back 'you agreed last night' and winked.

Impossible. My husband is impossible to argue with, I tell you.

However, I forgive him when I see myself in the beautiful new gown the seamstress had readied for me. It is in sage green, with a wide neck and layered skirt. There are no bows or tassels as I made it clear to her that they were to be avoided at all costs. It is simple yet elegant, a compliment to the verdure of the season.

And of course it also reminds me of the deep green of Edward's eyes.

I select a silver choker with a pretty flower design in between, entwined with an emerald leaf. It is light and enhances the elegance of the gown. Matching earring adorn my ears.

Alice works her magic on my hair, curling it and pinning up most of it but leaving some strands loose on both sides so that it does not look too formal. This is a country ball after all, not one at the royal court. I do not like pastes and powders too much, so she just lightly touches my cheeks and lips with a little pink. Finally she stands back and observes her handiwork, and nods with satisfaction.

"You look beautiful, my lady. Lord Edward won't be able to take his eyes off you; though that is what happens every time he is in the same room as you."

I laugh at her cheekiness. "Alice, that is true of most men who have wed recently, is it not?"

She shakes her head emphatically. "From what I have seen of men, this is not true for everyone. I think Lord Edward loves you very much. He does not even try to hide it, whether the two of you are alone or others are present in the room. You can see for yourself this evening, how different he is from other men."

Her words touch me deeply. Of course I am aware that Edward loves me; he has told me many times. However, I had not imagined that it was evident to others too. Or maybe it is that Alice is unusually perceptive?

However, as soon as I see Edward in the hall, it is clear that I at least will not be able to take my eyes off him at the party. He is beautiful always, but right now he looks breath-taking in his dark grey coat and pantaloons. A sea-green vest peeps from inside his coat, and he is wearing a dark cravat under his white shirt. His hair is slicked back, hat ready in his hand.

All I can think of is that I want to take off every article of clothing off him and muss up his hair. And then to kiss his lips until they are as red as the apples in his favourite dessert.

While these very inappropriate thoughts are passing through my head, making me forget to greet him, he raises an eyebrow at me.

"My lady." His tone is teasing as he bows to me and offers me his arm, but I keep on staring at him. He begins to fidget under my gaze.

"Is there something wrong, Isabella?" He brushes his coat as if he has suddenly found a speck of dirt on it. I shake myself into the present.

"Not at all, my lord, I was just admiring you in your evening clothes," I answer rather boldly. At least it is not a complete lie.

He looks pleased, even though his face takes a reddish hue. "Thank you. I was just about to say how beautiful you look this evening."

"Thank you. I am looking forward to our evening together," I say, suppressing my smile at his expression. He is so composed in front of others that it is fun to see him flustered at something I have said or done.

Though of course he is quite good at teasing me and doing outrageous things, so it is all fair.

There is already a long line of carriages in front of my aunt's fine-looking house. There are guests walking about in the large, beautifully maintained garden, talking and laughing. Servers move among them, offering them aperitifs and dainty bites of food. The weather has been glorious and sunny, so the party has been arranged in the outdoors.

As we move away from the sound of the horses snorting and stamping their shoes and the coachmen shouting to each other in greeting, I can distinguish the soft strains of music among the guests' chatter and laughter. The band from London must have already began playing.

The sweet smell of flowers wafts on the gentle breeze, making the atmosphere very pleasant.

Aunt Esme welcomes me with an affectionate hug and kiss, while Edward kisses her hand and congratulates her on the happy occasion. Then we find my uncle Carlisle, surrounded by a group of merry gentlemen and narrating some anecdote that has them in splits. He has always been good at telling stories.

"Isabella!" he cries as soon as he spies me, moving forward to greet us. His manner is too jovial even for him. It seems he has already tasted the punch once or twice. "How is my favourite niece? You look lovely, by the way. Married life is suiting you!"

I laugh and kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Uncle. May I introduce my husband Lord Edward Masen? You might remember him from the wedding; he was the groom."

Both Carlisle and Edward laugh. "Cheeky girl," says my uncle, pretending to tweak my ear. "I am not that drunk, you know." He winks and adds, "Not yet anyway. Welcome, my lord. I hope you will enjoy our little gathering."

Edward shakes his head. "Please don't be so formal, Doctor Cullen, Edward will do. After all, I have known you since I was a child. You have even treated me on occasions, though it was a long time ago."

A sudden alertness shines in Carlisle's kind blue eyes. "You are right, I did treat you a couple of times for chills and fever, _except the last time_ ," he says, his voice dropping at the end as if he is talking to himself. Then he shakes himself and smiles. "Edward it is then. I trust your mother is keeping well?"

Was it Carlisle who had treated Edward's injuries when James had whipped him? It is quite possible, for he already knew Edward's parents, and Elizabeth wouldn't trust anybody else to keep quiet about the incident.

At least he knows how cruel James can be.

We move on to other topics, and then my parents arrive and we speak with them. Soon my mother drags me to chat with some ladies of our acquaintance while Edward gets busy among the gentlemen.

Soon dinner is announced and the guests troop into the dining hall. Toasts are called, the silver couple is congratulated and wished many more years together, and course after course of delicious food follows, accompanied by the finest wines. My uncle and aunt have gone to great trouble to please their guests.

Once the dinner is over, everyone follows Carlisle and Esme outside, and the band starts playing a merry tune. My uncle and aunt open the dance, and then other guests follow. Esme had mentioned earlier that the dancing won't be too formal. She wanted everyone to enjoy themselves without worrying too much about rules and such things.

It is during the dance that I understand what Alice meant earlier. Of course Edward dances with other women and I with other men, it would be rude not to. However, I am always conscious of his presence, of his eyes upon me. He seeks me out at the end of a few dances to make sure I am not too tired, and fetches me a glass of wine because he thinks I might be thirsty. It is as if some part of him is always on the watch for me.

When we dance together after having fulfilled our duty, I find that dancing with him is a pleasure. He moves well; there is no stiffness in his movements, unlike some gentlemen. His eyes are full of adoration and there is a smile on his lips that makes me want to kiss him. His hands feel warm on my back as they support me through the steps.

"You seem to be in deep thought, my lady," he observes as we twirl around. "May I enquire what is running through your mind?"

"I am thinking that it seems like a dream," I answer slowly, trying to assimilate my thoughts. He raises his eyebrows, so I explain further. "Not just being here and dancing with you, though that in itself is something I had never imagined happening. But also my whole life with you, the way it has changed since your arrival. I had given up on happiness, you know?"

A look of pain flashes across his face, followed by a sad smile. "You will never know how sorry I am for the past, Bella. I wish there was some way to change it so you wouldn't have known so much sadness. But that is not in my hands. All I can do is to make sure that you remain happy for the rest of our days together. And for that, I will do anything, anything at all. You and Lizzie are my life now."

I swallow at the intensity in his eyes and the resolve is his voice. He is a wonderful man and husband, kind and patient and loving. The fact that he mentions Lizzie in the same breath as me makes me glow from inside. Truly, my life cannot be any better.

"I _am_ happy, Edward," I say softly so that only he can hear me. "You have made me so happy…All these days, I had been waiting for this feeling so I could honestly tell you that…but this is not the place. When we are home tonight, then I will tell you what you mean to me."

It's true. This wonderful feeling, it has stolen upon me slowly, quietly. There has been no thunderclap, no particular moment when my heart stopped at the sight of him and told me that yes, I love him, truly and deeply. In the days we have been together I have experienced everything beautiful that I had not before, that I had not even been aware of. Anthony and I had been pretending to be a team, but with Edward I know that we really are one. I have experienced physical affection as well as emotional, know how important I am to him, and feel utterly safe with him.

There is no need to wait. I know that I love him and want to spend my life beside him, with our children close by. They will grow up surrounded by love and never feel unaccepted or judged for things they want to do.

Edward gasps and then laughs, his face lit up with joy. He bends his head so that his mouth is close to my ear. "Shall we leave, my lady?"

A pleasing shiver runs through my body, right from the top of my head to the toes of my feet. "I suppose we can," I answer, my hands on his chest, uncaring of what people might think. "We have been here long enough."

"Let us say goodnight to your parents and aunt and uncle."

Carlisle and Esme bid us good night cheerfully, thanking us for sharing their joy. My father looks a little surprised and remarks that it is early yet, but my mother reminds him that we are young and newly married, making me blush. Still, we keep our composure.

In the carriage we hold hands tightly. If it was a closed one, I am sure we would have kissed, but unfortunately it is not so. Well, a little more waiting won't kill us.

Soon we are home. I am surprised to see Mrs Stanley at the main door. She prefers to keep early hours, so what is she doing here at this hour?

"Is everything well, Mrs Stanley?" asks Edward, as concerned as I am. She doesn't look worried though. Her lips are pressed together in a straight line and I feel she is disapproving of something or someone. Before answering Edward's question, she straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath.

"My lord, we have received a visitor."

Edward looks surprised. "A visitor, and so late? Who might he be?"

She flashes me a glance I cannot read, before turning back to him. "It is not a he, but a she, a Madam Irina Ivanova. She has just arrived from France. She says you are expecting her."

* * *

 **A.N.** : I know, evil me. But you knew something was going to change, right? Can't be fluffy and sweet all the time!


	26. Chapter 26

Thank you for the shower of reviews for the previous chapter! I loved how many of you wanted Edward to kick out Irina that very moment. But the truth is seldom what it seems to be, right?

Unbeta'ed.

* * *

 **Chapter-24**

I had heard of moments in one's life that cannot be defined, but I had no idea what they might like be. The moment I am experiencing right now however certainly belongs to one of those.

As I look from Mrs Stanley to Edward, a thousand questions rage in my breast. Who is this woman? How does she know Edward? How _well_ does she know him? Why is she here? Why had Edward not informed me that he was expecting her? Why had he not mentioned her before, at least? Her name doesn't sound French, more…Russian. If she has arrived from France, clearly that was where they must have met. She doesn't have a title, otherwise I would have assumed her to be the wife of some nobleman there. Edward had mentioned to me that he was on friendly terms with many titled families on the continent due to his business dealings with them. It would have been unconventional for a lady to arrive at a friend's house without her husband or at least an escort—though I don't know about that as yet—but not unheard of. But the housekeeper did not use a title with her name.

The look on Edward's face is a mix of happiness and embarrassment. He is smiling and his eyes are shining, but his cheeks and ears are glowing red. The sight confirms my worst fears, ones I had pushed to the back of my mind and forgotten because Edward had convinced me by word and deed that he loved me and only me.

This Irina must be one of _those_ women who know how to bring pleasure to a man, how to converse in a sophisticated manner and make a man feel that he was best at everything. Perhaps she was Edward's mistress for a long time in France, or perhaps he used to visit her now and then. Regardless, she must be very bold to be here, knowing that Edward is a married man now.

Or maybe it is not so surprising. After all, most noblemen have mistresses, both before marriage and after. What I cannot understand is why Edward would invite her here _after_ making so many declarations of love to me. Surely that was unnecessary? And why not be more discreet about her and have her stay elsewhere? Why flaunt her in my face?

These and more thoughts flit through my mind in the blink of an eye. Before I can gather the courage of asking Edward a question, he takes my hand and walks quickly towards the sitting room meant for guests. I am sure Mrs Stanley gives me a look full of sympathy, but she doesn't say anything, following us with silent footsteps.

I am completely flummoxed by Edward's eagerness. Surely he is not thinking of _introducing_ me to his mistress? Nobody does that!

We walk into the beautifully decorated room to find it lit by a medium-sized fire as well as a tall candle. There are refreshments on the table. Evidently, Mrs Stanley hasn't let her dislike of this woman come in the way of her duty to her guest.

Speaking of _this woman_ , where is she? I look around and so does Edward, and then I see her detaching herself from the heavy drapes at the window and stepping forward into the light cast by the candle. As she walks towards us, I stare at her like an idiot, even though I know it is extremely rude of me. I can't help myself, never having seen such a woman.

She is tall, only three or four inches shorter to Edward, and very slim. Her hair is very light blond, braided and knotted on the top of her head. There are diamonds in her ears and at her throat, and the neck of her ruby-red gown is cut too low. When she stands in front of us. I see that her eyes are almost golden in colour.

She is beautiful, of course. Her straight nose and nicely-shaped lips, as red as her gown, are perfect for her oval face. Her carriage is confident and the look in her eyes speaks of worldly wisdom. She is older to Edward by at least ten years, but that wouldn't matter to a young man looking for company, would it?

Judging by Edward's smile, he is more than glad to see her.

"Madam Ivanova, it is a pleasure to see you here." He bows to her and kisses the back of her hand.

This greeting is rather unexpected. I am not exactly sure what I was imagining, but it wasn't anything this formal. Perhaps it is what she is used to. I have heard that some mistresses hold quite a reputed position in society.

In answer, she takes his hands in hers and kisses both his cheeks, and then speaks quickly in French. All I understand is _Edward_ and _France_. Her manner though suggests that she is telling him how much she has missed him.

The blush on Edward's cheeks deepens. When she lets go of his hands, he turns to me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Madame, I would like to introduce my lovely wife to you." He squeezes me lightly, his tone full of pride. "Lady Isabella Masen. Isabella, this is Madame Irina Ivanova, a dear friend from France. She was very kind to me while I was there."

Kind? Is that how gentleman regard their mistresses on the continent?

She takes my hands in hers and kisses me on both cheeks, much like she had done with Edward. I am so shocked that I just look at her with my mouth open.

"Isabella, vous êtes si belle!" she exclaims.

Huh?

"She says you are very beautiful," says Edward with a smile.

Madame Ivanova shakes her head. "Eh, my Eenglish so bad. Eet ees a pleesir to meet you."

Whoever she is, I can't be rude to her. "The pleasure is mine, Madame Ivanova. You are welcome into our home."

She beams and makes a remark in French again, which Edward translates to 'I have been waiting a long time to meet you'.

"A long time?" I am startled. "How does she know of me? Or rather, how has she known of me?"

"Uh, I used to talk about you," he answers somewhat sheepishly. His tone turns pleading. "I was lonely there, Bella. She was nice enough to listen to me and console me."

Console him? In what manner?

Obviously, I cannot ask all the questions clamouring in my mind in front of our _guest_ , if that is what she is. I must act as a good hostess first.

I look around for Mrs Stanley, and find her standing near the door, an expectant look on her face. She seems ready to throw Madame out at a moments' notice, but I must disappoint her, at least for now.

"Mrs Stanley, please ready a guest room for Madame Ivanova. See that she is comfortable in every way. My lord will be up shortly to check the arrangements, since I cannot converse well with her."

The housekeeper keeps her expression neutral, but I can still see the flicker of surprise in her eyes. However, she refrains from any comment, simply bowing her head and withdrawing.

When I turn to Edward, he seems surprised too.

"That was…thoughtful of you, Isabella."

"It is my duty as a hostess."

He frowns before explaining something to the Madame. Maybe he changed _duty_ for something better, for she smiles widely at me and says something that sounds like _zonti fiye._

"That means _sweet girl_."

I don't feel particularly sweet right now, but if she think so it is all right with me.

We bid each-other good night, and Edward tells me that Madame is looking forward to spending the next day with me. But then her forehead wrinkles and she asks him something. Edward replies with a puzzled expression, and she throws up her hands rather dramatically and seemingly curses someone. Then she kisses my cheeks once again and thanks me, and leaves for her room.

"She says she had sent a letter," Edward says with a sigh. "Maybe she wrote the address wrong. In any case, I never received one."

I study his face carefully. Now that Madame has left, he looks tired. "Will I see you…in my room…tonight?"

Edward looks at me as if he did not understand my question. "Well, of course. Why would you not…Do you not want me to come to your room? Are you that angry with me?"

I twist my fingers together. "I thought maybe…you would like to spend the night with _her_." My voice is very low, but he hears me. And he looks horrified.

"Spend the night with Irina? Why would I do that?"

I swallow, trying to speak through a dry throat. "Isn't she…wasn't she your…" I cannot say the word _mistress_ , try as I might. "…your _companion_ in France? The one who helped you forget your loneliness?"

My throat may be dry, but my eyes are not. I cannot forbid my eyes from shedding tears of grief. I wanted to tell him that I loved him tonight, but it is too late.

There is a sharp sound of breath being drawn suddenly, and then Edward's arms are around me and I am being pulled to his chest. "Oh Bella, my love, how could you think…This is my fault. I should have told you everything, but I was afraid that…Anyway, we should not have this conversation here. Let's go to our bedroom, all right?"

Did he mean she wasn't his mistress? But then, who was she, and what was my husband afraid of?

I nod. "I will go and change."

Alice is waiting for me as usual. Quickly she helps me take off the various layers I have been wearing and loosens my hair. She wants to know about the dance, of course. I tell her it was good and I enjoyed myself very much.

She doesn't mention Madame Ivanova. Either she is unaware of her arrival, or she is being discreet. I am grateful, either way.

When Edward's quiet knock sounds on the door, she opens it, wishes us a good night and departs.

I am not sure how to begin the conversation, but he makes it easier by taking my hairbrush and gesturing to the stool I sit on. Once I am settled, he takes a lock of my hair and brushes it gently.

"Madame Ivanova is my…teacher, you could say."

Our eyes meet in the mirror. "Teacher? What kind of teacher?"

He sighs heavily. "This is all so…Bella, when I left for France, I wasn't exactly in a positive frame of mind. I think you can imagine that?"

I begin to nod, but that results in a tug to my hair, so I just say _yes_. He takes another lock of my hair and starts brushing it.

"I remembered how much you encouraged me, Bella. I had never imagined that I would be able to make something of my life, but you told me that I could be successful in my own right. I didn't need a title to make something of me. So that was what I aimed to do, away from the estate.

As soon as I settled down, I began to form contacts there. That was an essential requirement to succeed in my business. I started small, very small, but I had this fire inside me. I was ready to work as hard as possible to earn money and make a name for myself. And after a while, it began to pay off.

People started to come to me to train their horses for shows and races. When I had sufficient capital, I began training horses of my own. My horses won races, and money poured in.

I had no idea when I would be able to return home though, and if there was any chance of having a future with you. Except my work and my memories, I had nothing."

He snorted quietly. "I used to be such a morose character when I was not being a businessman. I had acquaintances, yes, but no close friend. Nobody that I could share my hopes and despair with, and then…I met Irina at a party."

"How did you become so close to her?" I ask curiously. It seems that I was wrong about their relationship, but it is clear that she is important to him.

My hair is done, so he puts the brush down and takes my hand. I stand up, but I don't want to sit on the bed, so I steer him to the pale pink loveseat instead. He smiles as if he knows what is going on in my mind.

"I must admit that I was wary of her when I was introduced to her," he continues when we are sitting down, not letting go of my hand. "For three years I had lived like a monk, even though I had had been…propositioned a few times. I had a very fixed opinion of those women, and it was not a good one."

"Was any of them married?" I interrupt.

He chuckles. "You ask the darndest questions, my love. But yes, a couple of them were married. I turned them down as politely as possible."

I hum, thinking. "I suppose their husbands had mistresses and did not care of them. Also, you are too beautiful to resist; that might be a reason."

Edward looks at me as if I have sprouted wings. "My looks should not have been the reason. If their husbands neglected them, well…Anyway, I didn't speak to Irina much. On the contrary, I was rather brusque. She didn't mind though, asked me questions nobody had, and invited me to her home if I needed to talk with someone. She also said that I should try to see the brighter side of things."

"I suppose she sensed that you were feeling sad," I suggest, and he agrees.

"She is certainly very perceptive. I thought and thought, and finally sent her a message one day that I wished to meet her. She received me cordially, and her kindness made me pour out my whole story to her. I may have cried a bit."

My eyebrows climb up at the confession. Edward crying in front of an almost-stranger? I can't visualise that!

He gives a self-deprecating laugh. "I know, I was pathetic. But she listened to me and consoled me, saying that my love will conquer all the obstacles in the end. She also chided me on being so gloomy, telling me that life was rarely smooth sailing and we should keep our spirits up. Then she told me something of her life. It had been a difficult journey for her, but she had never lost hope."

I listened, fascinated. "How did you communicate with her? She doesn't speak much English, does she?"

He smiles as if remembering. "No, she doesn't. But by then I had learnt enough French to have a decent conversation. I had to, otherwise it would have been very difficult to run my business. I wasn't fluent by any means, but we managed."

"So she helped you," I say, nodding. "But you said she was your teacher? What did you mean by that?"

His cheeks become red again. "Yes, that. Well, in one way she helped me through a depressing period of my life, but she also…That is what she does professionally, you see. She speaks to people about sex and solves their problems in that field. She is an expert, you could say."

I am sure my eyes are as big as saucers. A woman who is an expert in sex? What…How…

"Does she give lessons in how to have sex?" I whisper even though we are alone. "How does she…I mean, does she _demonstrate_ what she is explaining?" Another thought rushes into my mind. "Did _you_ have lessons from her?"

His eyes widen too. "What? No! She only talks about it, and…Bella, there is much more to sex than the mere mechanics. She changed my whole view of it, you know? Like others of my age, I too thought it was either meant for procreation or satisfying our lust, especially a man's. She was the one who advised me that sex had emotional and spiritual aspects too. Remember that book I mentioned—The Kamasutra?"

I nod. "You said it was an old book written by an Indian man, about the various positions people can practice during sex?"

Living with Edward is definitely making me bolder. I actually say _sex_ now!

He explains to me that the positions are only a small part of the book. It also deals with the importance of sex in one's life, the duties one has to one's family and how important it is to be in touch with the spiritual side of yourself. It explains that one should make an effort to please their partner and to be creative. That sex is nothing to be ashamed of, rather we should enjoy it in its entirety, not just the act of penetration or the resulting orgasm.

"Oh, wow." That is all I can say when he finishes his explanation. My head is in a whirl.

He remains quiet then, giving me time to absorb and process everything. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, going over his words. He puts his arms around me and rubs my arm lightly.

"Edward?" I say finally.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you embarrassed to see Madame Ivanova?"

He heaves a sigh and says something that vaguely sounds like a prayer to the heavens. "Because there is another part of this story I am not comfortable telling you about. I am afraid you might hate me when you know everything."

I lift my head from his shoulder and turn towards him. "I will never hate you. Anyway, I have a pretty good idea of what it might be."

He actually looks apprehensive. "What?"

"There was another woman, right? And you didn't live like a monk for the next three years, did you?"

He seems to swallow with difficulty. "Yes, darling, there was. Irina introduced us. She was a client of hers, I suppose, and as lonely as I was." Suddenly he takes both my hands in his and squeezes them. "Please try to understand, Bella. I was not trying to replace you. Every day I wished I could return home, but to what purpose? Talking with Irina helped, but sometimes I just needed to forget my woes, to feel something else than pain. That was all it was, I swear. She knew as well as I did that it was temporary, and she was fine with it. For a few hours I could pretend that my life wasn't as empty as it was in reality."

The last few words sound as if they are choking him. Suddenly his arms are around me and his face is buried in my neck. To my surprise, I feel my skin becoming damp.

"Edward?" I murmur, one arm around him in an instinctive gesture of comfort as I run my fingers in his hair. He has always seemed to me so self-assured, so confident in all he does that I can't help wishing that all this had never come to my knowledge. I wish that Madame Ivanova had never come to our home, and Edward had never had to disclose his past actions to me. In this case, ignorance truly would have been bliss.

He raises his head at last, and my heart breaks at the sadness I perceive in his red-rimmed eyes.

"I would be lying if I said it doesn't bother me in the least," I begin, and the sadness deepens. "At the same time I do see what you mean, even though I can't exactly understand your state of mind. I too lived without hope while you were not here, but the darkness in my mind was perhaps different from yours. And of course I had Lizzie. Without her…I can't imagine going through life without her." I finish my statement with a deep sigh.

Edward nods quickly. "Yes, I can imagine that—Lizzie being the light in your life when there was nothing else to look forward to." He extends his hands towards me, palms upturned, and looks relieved when I put mine in his. "Bella, I know it was not right, but at that time…Please, please forgive me. I promise that I will do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of our life."

"Can I think about it?" I ask him, explaining myself when he seems uncertain. "Edward, you have known all this for years, but I have come to know about it only a few minutes ago. I need some time to absorb it, do I not?"

This times he nods slowly, heavily. "Yes, of course you do. I will go to my room then. And…we will meet at breakfast?"

I agree, and he goes to the door, his shoulders hunched and head bowed. It is with great difficulty that I stop myself from calling him back. I hate to see him dejected.

He turns and looks at me before opening the door. "Have a good night, Bella."

"Good night to you, Edward."

I doubt if it is going to be a good night for either of us.

* * *

 **A.N.** : Do I need to hide? Did Edward's secret(s) shock you, or did you shrug and say-Eh, it's not a big deal. I knew it would be something like this!

Story Rec: 'Feral' by OpalAline. If you haven't read it, believe me, you need to. This Edward is so sweet, you would want to protect him from the bad world outside!

Have you checked the Twilight Diversity Contest yet? There are some lovely stories waiting for you.

Oh, The Kamasutra was translated in English in the late 19th century, so consider mentioning it here an artistic license!


	27. Chapter 27

Hi! It was great fun to read your reviews for the previous chapter. The general consensus was that Edward having been with another woman before he got married to Bella was no big deal and Bella should get over it. I agree.

Milk40, who has graciously translated many of my stories into French, has corrected and polished Irina's conversation in this chapter. Thank you, sweetie!

Thank you for voting for 'Just Right For Me' and helping it to be one of the Top Ten stories on TwiFanficRecs. It is a big deal for me.

A shout-out to lillianoliviawhite, who made a kind of record by reviewing all the chapters of JRFM in a day. You made my heart so glad!

* * *

 **Chapter-25**

Doubts and questions keep me awake for hours. I want to believe everything Edward has said, but my fears keep on whispering in my ears.

I don't doubt that he loves me. Or that he missed me while he was in France. He was speaking the truth there; I could see it in his face. But is it possible that he felt _nothing_ for that woman who became his bed-companion for almost three years? Is it possible for anybody to be in love with one person and yet find comfort in another's arms?

It is true that Anthony did not touch me during those years. But if he had, what would have I felt? Would I have enjoyed it, or would I have wished it was Edward who was making love to me?

My feelings about Edward were so conflicted even when he had been at the Masen Estate. On one hand, he was easy to talk with, and we had shared many things about our childhood and our families. We never ran out of words while chatting; it was like sharing my dreams and thoughts with a really close friend.

The difference was of course that Edward was a man, a very attractive man. I liked the way he looked at me, the way his fingers curled around my wrist sometimes while guiding me as a novice rider, and the way his voice caressed my name. Oh yes, I liked it very much, even though I realised that it was wrong to think of another man while being married to one.

Had Edward remained at the estate, I can't say what would have happened. Would I have fallen in love with him? Enough to leave everything and run away with him? The truth is, I can't say. We did not get that much time together. The first and only time we were in bed, Anthony caught us, and that was the end of it.

Will I be enough for him _now_? He has known the pleasures of the body with another woman, and he has read and discussed that book with Irina. Who is to say that after a few years he will not become dissatisfied with me and pursue someone who can please him better? For I am not sure how adventurous he wants us to be in bed, and how much I will be able to. How experienced was this other woman anyway?

Finally I fall asleep, but it is not restful. I have strange dreams that make no sense yet seem absolutely real. I wake up a couple of times without being really awake and doze again. Finally I open my eyes to the morning.

It is still early, but I know I will not be able to go back to sleep. My head feels heavy, and I don't even want to remain in my bed anymore, so I get up and go to the windows. The morning light is stealing through the gaps here and there, but I want more. I pull on the silky ropes and let the room fill with light.

The windows of my room open to a vast expanse of green; grass, bushes and trees in the distance. This is the back of the estate, less formal but equally well-maintained and lovely. If it wasn't this early, I would have gone out and enjoyed the fresh air. Perhaps it would have lessened my sluggishness.

As I debate if I should risk opening the window a little, I notice a tall, thin figure in a peach-coloured nightgown coming from the left side of the garden. She has a matching jacket over her gown, and her head is covered by a simple bonnet. Then she raises her head and flings out her arms as if embracing the sky, and I gasp with recognition.

Irina!

What in heaven's name is she doing outdoors so early in the morning? The sun has just begun to show its face in the east, and the air is much cooler than it is during the day. Does she not know that early morning vapours can cause sickness?

While I am gawking at her like a child would at an elephant, she does something that astonishes me further. Without a care she sips off her dainty slippers and continues walking upon the dewy grass as if it was the finest carpet in the world.

I shake my head in wonder. She is definitely an odd woman.

Alice knocks on my door a few minutes later. She must know that Edward slept in his own room last night, otherwise she would have come much later. However, she makes no comment on the fact.

As I get ready for breakfast, I decide that I need to speak with Irina as soon as possible. What exactly are her reasons for being here?

Breakfast this morning is a little more special as far as the food goes. There are extra dishes on the table and Mrs Stanley is vigilant as to everything being just so, be it the temperature of a dish or the layout of cutlery. She has even prepared coffee for Irina!

The conversation is a little awkward though, compared to the meal. Edward is polite and attentive to both me and Irina, yet he doesn't say much. Irina smiles and hums to herself, and makes appreciative remarks concerning the house and the food. Between the three of us, she is the only one who seems to be completely at ease.

However, as soon as the meal is over, she asks me if we can take a walk together as soon as I have some free time. I suppose she was not as unaware of the peculiar atmosphere at the breakfast table as I had believed.

I give my assent, and then Edward and I ascend the stairs to the nursery to see Lizzie. He looks anxious, and although I wish to assure him that everything will be all right, I can't find the right words. His revelation, though not unexpected, is still sitting on my chest like a dead weight. Finally I settle for taking his hand in mine and giving it a light squeeze.

We are almost outside the nursery by now, but he stops abruptly and pulls me closer to give me a hug. "I missed you," he whispers into my hair.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight dispel a bit. "I missed you too."

He doesn't say anything else, and nor do I. After bestowing a kiss on my forehead, he draws back and takes a deep breath. "Lizzie," he murmurs to himself, and manages a small smile.

I nod and find a smile as well. None of us will let Lizzie see or feel that there is anything different between us. Her world will remain sunny and cheerful.

Afterwards, Edward takes his leave from both Irina and me, saying he has to discuss the horses' training with the new grooms. Also, he is meeting someone who will build a new and better stable for our horses. Their number is bound to increase as the breeding and training programme picks up.

The sun is playing hide-and-seek today, but the clouds are not particularly threatening. The breeze does feel a little sharper though. I sigh, already missing summer as I think of the days ahead shortening and becoming cooler. Before we know, autumn will have departed, its russet and gold leaves flying behind it like a shimmering cloak.

We follow a path to the back of the house, and I think of Irina walking barefoot on the damp grass this morning.

"Were your feet not cold?" I blurt, and then cap my mouth with my hands. Where are my manners?

"My feet?" she asks, puzzled. Then she looks at them and shakes her head. "No, they not cold. Merci."

Thank heavens she does not understand English very well!

"Uh, the days will be colder soon." I try to justify my concern to her. "Autumn is almost here."

She smiles and nods. "The season, yes? You like warm, or cold?"

"Warm, definitely warm," I say eagerly. "I don't like cold at all; it seems to seep into my bones, however warmly I am dressed."

She squints at me, seeming uncertain. "Pardon? What about your bones?"

I feel flustered. How do I explain myself? I have an idea, but before following it I look around to make sure nobody is watching us. When I see the coast is clear, I act as if I am shivering violently and wrap my arms around my stomach. To make myself perfectly clear, I make the appropriate 'hhhh' sound.

For a moment she just stares at me, and I begin to feel like an idiot. But then she throws back her head and laughs, a rich, uninhibited sound that makes me giggle. When she is able to stop her merriment, she mimics my action and says something like 'oui, je comprends', which I take as 'I understand'.

"You feel cold…inside," she adds, and I nod in agreement.

"Is it cold where you live, in France?" I ask, curious but also shy. I want to picture Edward as he must have dressed and lived there.

She tilts her head to the left and purses her red lips. "Eh, cold, but not so cold. Very leetil neige in Paris."

"Neige?"

She looks up to the sky and swipes her hands vertically, mimicking the action of something falling from the sky.

"Oh, did you mean snow?"

She nods, repeating 'yes, snow'. Then she smiles widely. "You must veesit me, yes? With your bel homme. Make me…yes, happy."

Bel homme? Did she mean Edward? What did the words mean though?

And to invite me to Paris! She is really a _very_ odd woman. Why would I want to visit her?

Of course it would be impolite to say it to her face, so I just smile and nod. I am thinking of a way to ask about Edward and her that doesn't seem too intrusive and failing, when she solves my problem.

"Edward was malheureux…" she begins, then snaps her fingers. "Unhappy. At breakfast. You, uh, angry with him? Because I come without asking?"

My eyes widen at her candour. I am embarrassed that she could sense our feelings so well, and at the same time relieved that I do not have to initiate this conversation. Our walk would have been over before I could have thought of an opening.

Since she understands the issue, I decide to be relatively frank with her.

"I am not angry, Madame. I am sad."

"Because I am here?"

"Because he did not tell me anything before. It has been so many days; he could have informed me of… _that woman_."

She tilts her head and looks at me thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, that woman. So, you sad because he not tell you? Not because she _was_ there?"

I heave a deep sigh. "No, that part wasn't a surprise. He was there for almost six years; of course he wasn't going to be alone all the time. But he told me so many times that he loved me, and yet, he hid that part of his life. Why would he do that?"

Irina raises a brow. "He loves you, ma belle. He was terrifié…how do you say…afraid."

"Afraid of me? Why?" Ridiculous. What can I do to him? He is not only a lord, he is also my husband.

"Of making you sad, of losing your affection." She says _affection_ in a different manner, but I understood anyway as she put her hand on her heart. "Eet is happening now, non?"

My head jerked up at her question. "No, that's not true. I love him! I was going to tell him last night when…"

Her eyes widen and she mutters something in French. I am not sure what it means, but it sounds like she is invoking the divine.

"Pardonnez-moi, I came at bad time. I will leave coming day." Her expression and tone are full of sincere apology. I suppose she means to say _tomorrow_ when she said 'coming day'.

How can I let her leave so abruptly? It would be shameful if a guest of Edward departs feeling bad about herself! Besides, in all honesty, I cannot blame her for Edward being with another woman or not telling me about her. One way or another, it would have happened.

"No, please don't go like that," I say softly but clearly. "It will make everything worse. I can see that Edward thinks a great deal of you…He said you helped him a lot when he was in France."

She smiles, but it is a sad smile. "Ah, Edward. Good man. But he was _misérable_ when I met him first. His smile, his talk, it was all show." Her voice takes on a far-off quality. "When he talk to me, it was you, you, all the time. Eet is why I want to see you, so I come here on my way to London."

"You came here to see _me_?" My voice becomes a little shrill towards the end, but I can't help it. This was the last reason for her visit I would have thought of.

She looks at me as if it should have been obvious to me. "But of course, petite chérie. I want to see the girl who make Edward crazy, yes? And I hope to see Edward smile, a real smile, now that you two are married."

"Oh." It is an inadequate response, but it's all I can manage right now. I was so wrong about her. She cares for him like he was family.

But then my insecurities come rushing back, and I sigh heavily. Irina looks at me questioningly and suggests we sit for a while, so we choose a bench and sit down.

"I am afraid he will not love me for long, Madame," I begin, amazed at myself that I am sharing my fears with someone who is practically a stranger to me. But who else is there? It is not the kind of thing I can discuss with my parents or even Angela, can I?

Irina looks confused, so I explain further. "Edward knows _so much more_ than me, and he has seen more of the world. And now that I know for sure he has been with another woman, probably a more experienced one…I am afraid he will be bored of me very soon."

It takes her a minute to process my words, I think, but then she understands and begins to chuckle. However, she grows serious soon as I stare at her hopefully.

"Oh chérie, you not worry about that. That boy is crazy in love with you!" She waves her hands as if trying to tell me how much Edward loves me. "He no get bored with you. He teach you new things, yes?"

I know I am blushing, but I nod in a yes.

"And you like what he does? Eet make you happy?"

Now my whole body seems to be on fire. Irina is so frank! But then, that is why she is a teacher…of sex.

"I want to do something to make him happy as well," I blurt out. She raises a perfect brow in surprise at my boldness, but then she smiles and gives me a wink.

"I teach you anything you wish to know," she answers without hesitation. "You ask me anything, I will answer. You want to surprise him, I help you. He will be very happy with the surprise!"

* * *

 **A.N.** : Hmm, what should Bella do to surprise Edward? Any ideas? ;)

It was one of you who suggested that Bella should learn something from Irina. This is your chance to see your idea come to life in the story!

Have you voted for the Twilight Diversity Contest? Voting is closed now, but you can still read the entries and review them. Everyone has written so well.

Story Rec: Crossroads of the Heart by Aeson. Just five chapters in, and very interesting!


	28. Chapter 28

Sorry for the delay! You know when so many things are demanding your attention that your mind is constantly distracted? Yes, that's what is happening in my life right now. Nothing bad though, just time-consuming.

Thank you, Milk40 for giving me the perfect last line for this chapter!

A big thank you to the readers who voted in the Twilight Diversity Contest. My story-A Gift of Love-won the Judges Choice 3rd Place. It is now posted on my profile, so if you haven't read it yet, please do.

So, here is Bella making up to Edward!

* * *

 **Chapter-26**

It is only at dinner that I see Edward again. He still looks a little uncertain, but smiles more when I and Irina engage him in light-hearted conversation. I am also very interested in the new techniques of horse-training his grooms are going to use. Edward promises me that he will take me to the training-ground so I can see for myself.

Irina and I have had a long chat, and I feel quite at ease with her. She is a little eccentric, with her ideas about being close to nature and following one's heart, or perhaps she just does not care for the constraints of the society. Having seen much more of life than I, she insists that old beliefs and practices are not always right, and if we want to do something to gain happiness we should do it. As long as it does not hurt anybody, of course.

After many suggestions from Irina and some nervous giggling on my part, I have decided what Edward's surprise should be. I just hope he does not think me a hussy for it, though Irina assures me that will never happen.

I have also had a word with Alice as well as Jasper to put my plan into action. Their cooperation, especially Jasper's, is essential for the success of this little scheme of mine.

Goodness me, I had never imagined I would be bold enough to do this!

Jasper has promised he would delay Edward by a few minutes while I change quickly in my room. No servants usually pass these corridors at night, but I still wear a dressing-gown over my relatively thin nightdress, for the sake of propriety. With my hair braided loosely, I step out of my room, my satin slippers perfectly silent on the carpeted floor.

It is a strange experience to be in this familiar passage so late. A taper set in an alcove in the wall shows me the way to Edward's room, which is luckily quite close to mine. Otherwise, the shadows lurking just at the edge of the candle-light might have driven me back to my room!

I knock lightly on the heavy, oak-panelled door, wondering if I am in time. It opens quickly to reveal Jasper, sombre as usual. He bows to me as I enter and points to the adjoining privy, indicating the presence of Edward.

I take a deep breath as I look around the room Anthony used to occupy, the one in which he breathed his last. I had imagined that I would never have to enter it again, even when I married Edward. Of course, what I have planned to do could have been done in my room as well, but I want to make this surprise as unexpected as possible.

Edward would not expect me in his room, and that is why I am here.

"Is everything ready?" I ask Jasper even as I glance at the king-size bed in the centre of the room. There is a small table near the foot, and a dark glass bottle upon it. A few squares of soft cotton cloth are stacked nearby.

"I hope it won't ruin the bedsheet," I murmur to myself, but Jasper must have heard it, for he presses his lips as if suppressing a snicker. I feel so conscious of what I am about to do.

Before I feel even more awkward, he wishes me goodnight and leaves, and I feel relieved. Of course I don't need to mind his opinion; he is only a valet. I suppose over six years of being a titled woman isn't enough for me to be rid of the notion of complete privacy.

"Bella?"

Edward's voice startles me. I was so lost in my thought that I had not noticed his presence.

My eyes take in his damp hair and face as he towels them dry. Then they stray to his unclothed chest. He must have been about to change into his nightshirt, I suppose.

"Is everything all right?" He is frowning, worry threading through his tone. I swallow before I can answer him.

"Uh, yes, everything is all right." I pause. "Iamheretogiveyouamassage." I add in a rush and then bite my tongue.

"I beg your pardon?" he says, looking completely at sea. I can't blame him, of course.

I clear my throat and try again, slowly. "I thought—I mean, I spoke with Irina and asked her what would be a nice surprise for you—something I had never done before, you know. She suggested that you might enjoy an intimate massage, and I thought it would double the surprise if I did that in your room. So…would you like that?" His expression doesn't change, and my voice peters off uncertainly towards the end.

After a few seconds Edward blinks and then shakes his head as if trying to clear it. "You want to give me a massage…because you thought it would be a nice surprise?" he asks as if he is unable to believe my words.

Or maybe he thinks I am an imbecile for having planned this. He can get a massage any time he wants from his personal masseur, so why would he be excited that I wanted to give him one? Heavens above, I will probably be a complete failure at it!

"Well," I stammer, "Irina suggested it, but yes, I wanted to do something nice for you. If you don't want me to…"

He huffs and smiles, a smile full of surprise and happiness. "Oh sweetheart, I want anything you would like to do to me. I was disbelieving because I was mentally preparing for asking your forgiveness some more. And then seeing you in my room…you have never been here since I returned, have you?"

I shake my head even though he knows the answer. "It did take me some courage to come here. And there is no need for asking my forgiveness. Yes, I was upset because you didn't tell me before, but I see now that it would have been an awkward topic to broach. I am sorry; I should not have reacted so badly."

His eyes light up even as he steps closer and his arms go around me. "You are not vexed any more, Bella? Truly, I never want to make you sad in any way."

In answer, I simply raise my head, silently asking him to kiss me. He does, and I can feel his smile on my lips. But then I let my tongue touch his lips, and he stops smiling and groans instead. The heat seems to rise between us as ours hands wander, but then I remember that I came here for a specific purpose and draw back.

"Bella?" Edward says, looking rather dazed. It is reassuring to see that kissing me can have that kind of effect on him.

"I would still like to give you that massage," I say while trying to slow down my breath. "Of course, I am not a trained masseur…"

For the first time his eyes leave me to glance in his bed's direction. "I see you have everything ready. It would be a shame to not take advantage of this opportunity, hmm?"

The tone of his voice tells me that he is teasing me, but I still feel shy. "Uh, you should take your pyjamas off then," I say softly, not looking at him.

"With pleasure," he says with a chuckle. A second later, I hear the rustling of clothes and see them landing on the floor in my peripheral vision.

"Shouldn't you take off _your_ clothes as well?" he suggests from behind me. "Surely you don't want oil stains on your pretty gown?"

Slowly I remove my dressing-gown, fold it and place it on a chair. Always he is the one who disrobes me, so it feels strange taking my gown off in front of him.

"What about this one?" His hands tug lightly on the thin nightgown. My breath picks up as his hands pass over my breasts.

"I think I will keep it for now," I choke out. "Otherwise there will be no massage taking place. Now, please lie on the bed."

"On my back?" he says, his warm breath caressing my nape.

I clear my throat as a visual of my naked husband lounging on the bed flashes before me.

"No, on your stomach."

"As you wish."

He follows my instruction, and only then I dare to look at him. Did I imagine it would be easier to look at Edward when he is facing away from me?

No, it is not. His shoulders, back and legs are equally tempting as his front, all long and lean and muscled. Even his feet are shaped beautifully.

I sigh and pour a little oil into my palm, and then rub both palms lightly, warming it up. I recall Irina's instructions and begin with his feet and ankles. As I rub the oil into them and begin applying pressure with my thumbs, he groans with pleasure.

"That feels so good, Bella. Thank you."

I laugh. "I have just begun, Edward."

"I am sure I will be in heaven by the time you finish."

Hmm, I intend to see that he reaches that blissful stage by the time this massage is over.

From ankles I proceed to his calves, using my thumbs as well as fingers to press the firm flesh there. The sounds he makes reveal his enjoyment very clearly.

As I smile and continue up to his strong thighs, I discover something I had not even thought about when I decided Edward's surprise.

At that moment, the only thought in my mind was to do something that would give him pleasure, but it is only now, now that I am bent over him and my hands are slick with oil, kneading his muscles and making him groan, that I realise it is bringing _me_ pleasure as well.

Even though I am familiar with Edward's body now, having him spread out in front of me is a different feeling. He is so relaxed and completely trusting of me, leaving his body in my hands. It makes me feel powerful. And my hands…gliding, stroking, pressing…the pleasure of touch works both ways, I feel. The whole experience is so intimate.

His hands have often been on my behind, but this is the first time that I have my hands on his firm cheeks. I don't spend much time there though. I have other plans after I have done his back.

"Bella, please stop if you become tired," he says, but I assure him I feel just fine.

"Well, don't bend so much. At least sit on me while doing my back."

I give in and seat myself on his bottom. It is definitely more comfortable for me to massage his back this way, but the contact is also making my lady-bits tingle. I can't help imagining what would have been happening had he been on his back right now.

I lay a few kisses on his back while kneading his muscles, earning a few sighs and words of gratitude. When it is done, he asks if he should turn over.

"Only if your hands are not aching already," he adds.

"Not yet, I mean, don't turn over yet. I want to try something new." I exhale and continue, "I don't know if you will like it or not. Do you trust me?"

His voice has a smile in it. "With my life, sweetheart."

I smile too. "In that case…"

I apply some more oil to his cheeks and stroke them, giving a squeeze here and there. Edward snickers but says nothing. He does give me a suspicious look when I ask him to rise on his knees and tuck his calves underneath. I shrug and raise an eyebrow, and he complies.

The next movement of my thumb has him hissing, probably in shock. He turns his head just enough to look at me.

"Are you giving me a massage _there_?" His tone is incredulous.

I swallow nervously. "Irina said it makes a man feel very good. But she also warned me that some men don't like anybody touching them there, so…I can stop if you…"

To my surprise, he looks more impressed than irritated or anything. "You are right that I wouldn't like anybody touching me in that manner. However, I said I trust you, and I do. If you are comfortable with the idea, go ahead and do it."

"Thank you."

He smiles and rests his head on the pillow.

I do it slowly and carefully. I do not want to apply too much pressure or injure him with my nail. It is certainly strange, but I can see that he is enjoying my ministrations, and that helps me feel less awkward. With a sudden burst of courage, I let my other hand walk over to his front and stroke his instrument.

"Oh heavens, Bella!" he swears in a low voice that sounds a little rough.

"Is that all right?" I ask, though my hand is already going up and down. It seems he has been ready for a while.

"Yes, yes. Just don't stop!"

It is a little awkward to manage both the actions at once, but I keep on with the stroking and the squeezing and the pressing, front and back, and slowly I develop a rhythm. Edward moves and moans, until finally his whole body shudders and then stills, and he collapses on his side, a blissful smile on his face.

I excuse myself to go and wash my hands. When I come back, he invites me to lie near him.

"On the other side," he says when I look for the wetness that accompanies sexual pleasures. "I used those cloths to clean myself and pat the bedsheet, but it must be still somewhat damp here."

"It is good your bed is really big, then," I tease him as I join him and he spoons me against himself. "I think four people can sleep here comfortably!"

He laughs and pulls a quilt over us. "Or two people can roll around and not fall over."

I hum in agreement and try to get closer to him, but there is still something that is not quite right. Suddenly I remember what it is and sit up quickly.

"Bella?" Of course he is surprised at my action. "What happened, darling?"

"I just remembered I was still wearing this gown," I answer, wiggling my hips and pulling the thin garment up and so I can take it off. "I am so used to sleeping without any clothes with you…" I throw it on the floor and sigh in relief. "There, that's better."

"Not that your nightwear was concealing much," Edward says, his arms tightening around me, "but yes, this is _much_ better. In any case, you would have to take it off in a few minutes."

I shivered as his hands found my breasts and begin to play with them. "Why?" My voice wobbles a bit.

He throws a leg over mine and pulls me even closer. "Because it's your turn now, to receive pleasure. You didn't think I would be selfish enough to just go to sleep, did you?"

"You don't need to," I begin, but then he begins to kiss my neck, my shoulder, my back…and I forget what I was going to say. It was probably not important anyway.

His lips and hands work their magic on me until I am crying out his name, and then I lie boneless in his arms. As I am drifting off to sleep, I hear him murmur to me.

"Tu es mon amour. Tu es ma vie. Tu es tout pour moi."

* * *

 **A.N.** : Hmm, what did Bella forget to say? :)

Edward: "You are my love. You are my life. You are my everything."

Most readers suggested a BJ, but one of you said prostate massage, and it kind of stuck in my head. Unusual, eh?


	29. Chapter 29

Once again I apologize for posting so late. My daughter is going to France for higher studies, and I and my husband are accompanying her to see that she settles down and has everything required in the beginning. For the past two months I have been busy with paperwork and making arrangements for everything, and it has distracted me from this story of ours. We are flying tomorrow night, and I will be back in the last week of this month. After that, the updates should be pretty regular.

Most of the readers caught what Bella had forgotten to say to Edward. As you will see, she remembers soon enough!

* * *

 **Chapter-27**

I wake up once during the night, to soft lips and sweet words. Eager hands and enthusiastic caresses welcome me, and I reciprocate with alacrity. Before long we are joined together, all tangled limbs and panting breaths. Edward applies more force than usual, making me move towards the headboard of the large bed until my head touches it, making me giggle. He stops thrusting, places a couple of pillows behind my head and continues his action, all within a heartbeat.

I suppose the right incentive can make a man think and act very quickly.

Finally both of us are satisfied, though sweaty. It doesn't bother me too much nowadays. When Edward has gathered me in his arms and is placing petal-soft kisses on my hair, I remember something.

"Edward?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I meant to tell you something before I went to sleep, but I forgot."

Even though it is dark, I know he is smiling. "So tell me now."

"I, um…" I am not sure it is the best time or place to say what I want to. Is confessing one's love just after having sex appropriate? Should I wait for a more opportune moment?

"Bella?" his tone changes. "Is it something for me to worry about?"

Of course he would think that; he is such a worrier. "No, of course not. I was merely unsure if I should say it _now_ , that is all." I clear my throat, feeling silly. Why am I making such a big issue of it? "I, uh, I wanted to say that I love you." My voice dips so low at the end that it becomes a whisper. It would be a marvel if he heard me.

The sudden stillness of his body, to the extent that it seems he has stopped breathing, proves that my words did reach him. After a few heartbeats his lips move to shape words on my hair. "You…love me? Is that what you said?"

I nod against his chest even as I say yes to his question. In response, I feel his chest move and hear his breath rush out.

"Will you say it again?" he whispers, his voice soft in my ear.

I move my head back so I can look at him, even though I can't see much of him in the near-darkness. "I love you, Edward." My voice is stronger this time.

Butterfly-soft kisses land on my temple, my eyes and my cheeks. "Oh, Bella," he says between bestowing them, his breath fanning my hair. "I am so, so happy to hear you say the words. I want to hear them all my life!"

"You won't get bored?" I tease him.

"Never." I can hear the smile in his voice, but also the solemnity. It makes me feel cherished.

"Then I will keep on saying them."

-ATW-

Irina stays with us for five days more. Now that I am comfortable with her, I really like spending time with her. Contrary to her elegant persona, she loves to gossip and make me laugh with the many amusing anecdotes she has collected over the years. It is a wonder to me how similar people are in certain ways, even though they live in different countries, speak different languages and follow different traditions.

We discuss the many aspects of physical intimacy too. I understand a little more how men and women feel about and look differently at sex. It is not a matter of being right or wrong, but simply being different from each-other. Communication is the most important thing here, and Irina stresses that there is no scope for shyness and awkwardness.

"Unfortunately, society has taught men to be aggressive and take what they want," she says thoughtfully when I ask her why there is so much misunderstanding on the subject. "From their childhood they are expected to be physically active, mentally sharp and emotionally strong, by which people understand that boys and men should never cry or show their feelings in front of others. That would be a sign of weakness, you see. On the other hand, women are supposed to be meek and soft and emotionally vulnerable always. Most boys and girls don't get the opportunity of understanding each other, but still, when they get married they are suddenly expected to get along well! Now how is that possible?"

I nod, thinking over her words. "You are right. After being asked to keep a distance between us, the society expects us to suddenly be close in every way. Perhaps physical intimacy is not as important as emotional intimacy, but it is certainly difficult to achieve. The biggest problem is of course that we have no information on it. Most girls are terrified of their wedding night because all they know is that it will be painful for them!"

Irina argues that physical intimacy is every bit as important as emotional, but agrees with me that the lack of information contributes very much to the awkwardness. "Even if you are in love with someone, it takes some practice to get the sexual part right, doesn't it? Though your feelings might make you less hesitant."

"I can't really see any solution to this problem," I comment. "It is doubtful that boys and girls will be permitted to mingle freely while they are unmarried, so there is no question of their learning anything about the other's mind, let alone their body. And since the girl is not supposed to voice her opinion, she can only hope to be lucky enough to be married to a boy who will care for her and maybe know something about making her happy."

Her eyes twinkle. "Why Isabella, are you advocating that unmarried girls and boys have some opportunity to practice their sensual skills? I would never have imagined _you_ being in favour of that!"

I laugh sheepishly. "I am not saying they should have sex; that should be reserved until after the marriage. But, perhaps some closeness and kissing wouldn't be amiss. It is not as if these things don't happen, is it?"

"Of course these things happen," she agrees gently. "I doubt if the milkmaids and the stable-hands care to wait until they get wed. The lords, and some ladies, do whatever they please and don't give a whit to the rules of the society. Or perhaps their status protects them from being criticised, at least to a certain extent. Only the middle classes remain bound by the so-called moral rightness. That, I think, is unlikely to change in this century."

Apart from serious discussions, I ask her questions I cannot ask anyone else, and she gladly answers them. It results in Edward's and mine activities in the bedroom become even more varied and enjoyable.

Edward insists that since I have graced his room with my presence, it has gained a life of its own. Instead of merely being a space where he washed and dressed, it has actually become his room, a place with happy memories. He looks forward to sharing it with me, and I gladly agree to spend some nights there.

It is a large and handsome room of course, as would befit his position. He admits he had some changes made before shifting into it as it was too opulent for his taste. There are still a couple of overstuffed chairs from Anthony's time, but no ornate mirrors or heavily framed paintings. The bed has been changed, of course. It would be bad luck for a lord to use the bed of another who died so young due to illness.

Edward invites me to add anything I might wish to the room, but I have no plans to do that, at least not yet.

Irina leaves us with best wishes and an invitation to visit her in Paris. I miss her, but then there is so much to do, and soon life returns to its normal cheerful routine.

Even though the All Hallows Eve is months away, I am thinking of all that can be done to celebrate it. With Edward at my side, I won't mind hosting a party. In fact, I am looking forward to it.

With numerous ideas flitting through my mind, I miss something that I would never have forgotten otherwise. Strangely enough, it is Edward who brings it to my mind.

"Bella," he remarks in the midst of my rambling about what all I would like to do on Halloween, "you haven't sent me a note for a while."

I stop, surprised by his comment. "A note? Was I supposed to inform you of something related to the household?"

His smile is indulgent. "No, I expected something of a personal nature, something you sent to me last month. Not that I was looking forward to it."

Now I am completely puzzled. "If you weren't looking forward to it, why would you remember it?"

"Because it would mean something special to me, my darling. Or rather, the fact that you have not sent that note means some happy event can be looked forward to."

When I continue to stare at him in incomprehension still, he chuckles and shakes his head. "Your time of the month? I have been counting the days, and it should have been here two days ago. Of course, two days is not much; you might still get it in a day or two."

It is like I see the light suddenly. "Oh, oh yes, you are right. I had forgotten about that." I swallow the lump that has formed out of nowhere in my throat. "So, I might be expecting?"

His eyes are incredibly soft. "It might be possible, sweetheart. I suppose we should wait for a few days more before we can be sure though, shouldn't we?"

I agree with him that we should. I don't dare to hope too much, but I would really, really like to be pregnant. And I know Edward will be over the moon if it is confirmed.

So we wait and wait, and every passing day makes us smile a little more. When a whole fortnight has passed, and I experience a slight dizziness one day, we know that we are going to be parents.

I thank God for this privilege, and so does Edward.

And then he falls on his knees, places his arms around my middle, and cries quietly while I sit on the ottoman in front of my vanity. I run my fingers through his hair, understanding perfectly that however commonplace the event of a woman having a baby might be, it is no less than a miracle in our case.

"I never imagined we would get the chance…" he says, his words muffled against my clothes. "Bella, thank you for making me the happiest man alive by marrying me, and thank you for this day—it is a dream come true for me."

I tell him how happy I am, and how much I love him. He looks up with shining eyes and tells me that he loves me and he is not going to miss a single day of my pregnancy.

"I wish we didn't have to let James know," he sighs.

"Do we have to?" I don't like the idea either.

"Not right now," he replies, "but yes, in a few months. He will come to know anyway, from someone or other. Of course, I will ask him not to make an appearance until after the baby is born. The less we have to see of him, the better."

I suppose that is all I can ask for.

* * *

 **A.N.** : I know! Why did James had to pop in between a tender scene, right? He is such a mood-spoiler. Let's hope we don't see him for ages yet!

See you next month. :)


	30. Chapter 30

Thank you so much for your good wishes! I saw my daughter settled at the university and happy with her friends. I also spent some days in Paris playing tourist.

The second half of this chapter was difficult to write. Even now I am not completely satisfied with it, but I have already delayed enough, so here it is.

* * *

 **Chapter-28**

This pregnancy is very different from the previous one.

The circumstances are different; I am different. But most of all, it is because I have Edward as my husband. My extremely happy, extremely attentive husband who is so proud that his wife is carrying his baby that he might burst at any moment.

He takes such good care of me, telling me that nothing is too much trouble if I have a craving for something. He hounds Mrs Newton so that I may have my favourite dishes every day, and he frequently asks me if there is anything, _anything at all_ , that he might tempt me with. Exotic fruits? Unusual desserts? Do I need new gowns for my changing figure? Would I like some new jewellery?

His efforts touch my heart, even though I don't require half the things he offers me. When I smile and deny the necessity of fancy gowns and glittering gemstones, he settles for other things that might please me.

My parents and siblings are often invited to the manor house, or I am taken to visit them. Edward knows how happy it makes me to see them.

The village midwife had assisted me at the time of Lizzie's birth, but Edward insists that Carlisle check upon me every month. When I point out that he is my uncle by marriage and it will be awkward to have him as my physician, he offers to get another physician, the best in London. I roll my eyes and agree to see Carlisle instead.

At least Edward doesn't insist on Carlisle's presence at birthing. Now that is one thing I couldn't have abided!

When I complain of aching feet, he shoos off Alice and massages my feet carefully, the expression on his face so tender that it brings tears to my eyes. Surely no other man in this world would do that for his wife, let alone an earl.

When my mother and Angela come to know of this, they become glassy-eyed and sigh at how lucky I am to have married Edward. I can't agree more.

As full of surprises Edward has been, the best one has been him continuing to sleep with me, either in my room or his. I must say this was something I had not expected, not at all.

I knew very well that noblemen and their wives always sleep in separate bedrooms, and especially so when the lady is expecting. Anthony too had stopped visiting me as soon as he received the good news, so I fully expected Edward to absent himself from my room after he came to realise my condition.

Imagine my surprise when he announced clearly the very next night that he would much prefer to keep our arrangement as it was, provided I had no objection.

"Bella, I can't imagine sleeping alone, and that too for months," he said after an astonished Alice had taken her leave for the night. None of us had expected him there. "If my presence here does not make you uncomfortable, I would like us to sleep together for as long as possible. As it is, we spend very little time together during the day. I really look forward to the nights. Please?"

I may not have expected it, but of course his proposal delighted me. "I would like that very much, Edward. It didn't cross my mind because sleeping apart is customary, but I look forward to our nights too."

And then I threw myself in his arms and kissed him. Yes, I have grown bold enough to do that, and more, to take the initiative.

"There is one more thing I would like to discuss with you," he said after our lips parted and we drew in some much-needed breath. Strangely enough, he sounded rather nervous.

I looked at him expectantly. He sat on the bed and pulled me in his lap sideways, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

His neck was invitingly close to my lips, so I obliged it by licking the skin in front of me. Edward groaned.

"We won't be having a conversation if you carry on like this, my darling."

"Sorry," I said, not feeling apologetic at all. Edward laughed.

"From what I have learnt," he said, "a couple can continue having sex during the lady's pregnancy, provided it is not uncomfortable for her. So what do you think of that? Would you like to continue with our lovemaking?"

My mouth fell open as I tried to take in his words. Good heavens, was he suggesting—

"Lovemaking? While I am with child?"

Edward's eyes twinkled with amusement, even though he kept his lips in control.

"At the most, we need to wait a month or two, to let the baby stabilise. After that there is no harm in being intimate."

I must have continued to look incredulous, for he kissed me and asked me to think about it. He would accept my decision, whatever it was.

By the end of the month, both of us were frustrated, even though we used other ways to pleasure each-other. When he asked me again, I agreed happily. Yes, what he suggested was unconventional, but I had already seen that conventional was not always the best way.

The first time we made love after thirty days of abstinence, I almost cried with joy and relief. I was very, very glad that he had suggested it.

Edward agreed that he would have gone insane had I decided not to be physically close for the whole duration of my pregnancy, and then some more after the baby's birth.

Another unexpected thing he did was to talk with the baby, even though I was sure it could not hear him.

"You are probably right," he said, "but I like to pretend that it can hear me, understand my words. I want to tell our baby how happy we are, and how much we love her."

"Her?" I queried, amused. "Do you not want a son?"

He smiled shyly. "I am fine with a son, but a daughter will be wonderful, either this time or the next. I never did see Lizzie as a baby, or even a toddler."

And here I had imagined that I could not love him any more!

Not that I have any complaints regarding my first pregnancy, at least, where my comfort and convenience is concerned. Everything I had needed, I had been provided with. Anthony may have followed the tradition of sleeping in his own bedroom, but he had been attentive otherwise. He made efforts to have breakfast and dinner with me, and always asked me how I was feeling and if there was anything he could do for me.

I did not realise it then, but sleeping in the same bed as my husband was much more conducive to happiness then living in the lap of luxury.

However, the real discontent during that period originated not from sleeping alone, but because of keeping my distance from Edward.

After that fateful ride and the tumble I took because of Kate, ending with the passionate kiss Edward and I shared, I had informed him that it would be better if we did not ride together. And then of course I discovered that I was pregnant, and that put an end to my riding.

It was difficult to keep myself away and aloof from Edward. In the short time we had been together, we had exchanged childhood memories and thoughts, and become good friends.

If it wasn't for the attraction between us, it would have been perfect. But the fact was, the attraction did exist, and the more I tried to deny it the stronger it became.

 **The Past**

I was just over four months pregnant, and completely miserable.

Well, not completely. The knowledge that I was carrying another life inside me filled me with a quiet content. Quite a paradox, wasn't it?

Let me rephrase. I was miserable because I had not seen Edward for ages. To my knowledge, he had not been inside the mansion since my state of being with child had been announced. I could not ride, of course, so there was no excuse to seek him out or send him a message. I did go to the stable to see Rosalie on a regular basis, but somehow Edward was never around at those times. He was most probably avoiding me, but how could I fault him?

Sometimes, while I was taking a stroll in the grounds, I had a feeling of being watched. Once or twice I was certain that I had seen Edward disappear into the wood as I turned around, but always he was too far to hear me, even if I had the courage to call out to him. The attraction I felt towards him gave rise to guilt, which in turn made me a coward. I wanted to see him, but I made no effort to do so.

A few times Anthony mentioned Elizabeth to me, saying she would like to visit me. She had already done so in the beginning of my pregnancy, but it had been a short meeting, and none of us had said much except exchanging formal greetings and polite inquiries. I suppose I could have learnt more about her had we met more, but I could not bring myself to make the request to my husband. She was Edward's mother after all. I was not sure if I could have held my tongue in her presence and not asked anything about her son. And heaven only knew what my reaction would have been had _she_ mentioned Edward!

The warm days of summer were long past, giving way to the cooler and shorter days of autumn, and even that was slowly inching towards winter. Sometimes it was impossible to go out for a stroll, owing to a combination of rain and a stiff breeze. On such days my mood took a turn for the worse, and I felt lonely enough to cry into my pillow.

Were someone to ask me the exact reason for my sadness, I would have been unable to explain. In the eyes of the world, I had the perfect life, having married into nobility and gained a title, wealth and a husband against whom I had no material complaint. What more could I want?

Life wasn't a fairytale, I would remind myself, and a husband was not supposed to profess his love to his wife in words. Wasn't I taken care of? Didn't Anthony make sure that I lacked for nothing? Didn't he inquire about my health almost daily? I could expect no more than that. He was an earl after all, with lots of things to do.

Unfortunately, these very logical reasons made no difference to my heart. It cared nothing for wealth and splendour of surroundings, and longed for something indefinable.

That day was one of those dismal, rainy days when the morning doesn't differ much from the afternoon, and the afternoon from the evening. After a light lunch, I was resting in my room, feeling particularly tired due to having slept poorly during the night gone by. I had gone to bed at my usual time, but the sound of angry voices had woken me up. They seemed to be coming from the passage outside, perhaps even just outside my door. I could not make out the words, though it seemed to me as if the voices belonged to Edward and Anthony.

Before I could gather the courage to get up and open the door, however, the voices faded away as if the speakers had moved off. A door was shut with a heavy thud. Had they gone inside Anthony's room?

For a long time I remained awake, puzzling over the incident. Why would the cousins be arguing in the middle of the night? Were they coming to wake me up?

I decided that I would ask Anthony at breakfast, but found him absent. Mr Newton informed me that he had left early and would not be back until late evening.

I could have asked the butler if he had seen Edward last night, but his dour countenance didn't encourage questions, so I kept quiet.

At least Mrs Newton seemed concerned over my tiredness, suggesting that I take a nap after the lunch. I thanked her and agreed that it would help.

And so I lay in my bed in my chemise, having taken off my gown and underskirt. Through the half-drawn curtains I could see the rain lashing the trees outside. A maid had come by and built a comfortable fire, and I pulled the duvet over me and closed my eyes.

I had just fallen asleep when the sound of a door being opened and closed quietly disturbed me. At first I didn't pay much attention, but when it was followed by the squelchy sound of wet shoes being pulled off, my eyes flew open.

"Edward?" I could not believe my eyes as I sat up and gawked at him. He stood in front of me, soaking wet, with water dripping from his hair and clothes. "What are you…why…" I stammered, unable to comprehend his presence.

He sat beside me, his eyes wild, apparently unaware of his drenched state. "Isabella, I can't stay away from you any longer. Please, let me—"

"Edward, you are wet!" I exclaimed, still in a state of shock at his sudden appearance in my room. "Please change your clothes before you catch a cold."

For a second he stared at me, his expression perplexed. Then he looked at his clothes as if noticing them for the first time. "They are wet," he commented, surprise colouring his tone.

"Yes," I insisted, "please go and change them." Even though I didn't want him to leave me.

He stood up. And I breathed in relief; in disappointment.

"You have been avoiding me," I blurted out, and then bit my tongue. Why was I telling him that I had noticed his absence? It was as good as admitting that I had missed him.

It wasn't my place to miss him. It wasn't his place to know it.

"I didn't want to, Isabella," he said, his tone weary. His eyes roamed my face as if searching for something. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger. "When we kissed….that day, did you feel something for me? Anything at all?"

I wanted to tell him that I had felt more than at any other time in my life, that my body had come alive when his lips had touched mine, but the words wouldn't leave my guilt-weighed tongue, so I settled for a simple 'yes'.

"Oh, my darling." He bent towards me, arms extended, but then straightened suddenly. "Wet clothes," he muttered, and began to unbutton his shirt hastily.

To say I was startled would be an understatement. "Edward, what are you doing?"

Of course I could see exactly what he was doing. I just could not understand _why_ he was doing it.

In answer, he shrugged off the garment, letting it fall on the carpeted floor. And I forgot my question as I stared at his unclothed chest.

It wasn't as if I had never seen a bare-chested man in my life. The serfs working in the fields sometimes took their smocks off when the weather was too warm, and so did the labourers building a cottage or a road. However, I had never paid any attention to their physique. They were just doing their work. What was there to look?

But this was Edward, the man who had pulled me to him since the day I had known him, even though I knew it was wrong. Edward, every look and touch of whose singed my skin and sent a shiver racing throughout my body, whom my eyes had been searching for even though my mind had refused to acknowledge the fact.

Even in my dreams I had not imagined that I would see him shirtless. Ever.

In the semi-darkness of the room, the light from the fire made the water drops on his skin glisten. Even though he was lean of built, his shoulders were wide and his torso muscular. I felt as if I was hypnotized, completely unable to take my eyes off the sight.

Somehow I found myself standing up, then taking a step closer to him. My hands perched on his shoulders, and I swallowed as my eyes fell on his lips, as I remembered that kiss we had shared after my fall.

I wanted to be kissed like that again. I wanted to be held tight, to be whispered sweet words to, to be felt precious if only for a few minutes.

"Isabella," he groaned as his arms came around my waist, pulling me close enough that there was no space left between us. The water seeped from his skin into my chemise.

"Edward."

With a half-muffled curse his lips reached for mine even as his arms lifted me off the floor. The loneliness of the past few months that had weighed my heart down dissipated like mist does after sunrise. In his heated embrace, I felt as if I mattered for myself, not just because I was carrying an heir to further the Masen name.

"Oh my love, I have missed you so much." His words were a shape on my neck, a warmth on my shoulder. My chemise was tugged up, his hands burning on my back.

I have no memory of falling on my bed, none of Edward removing the rest of his clothes or mine. All I can recall is being surrounded by his heat, the pleasure of being skin-to-skin driving me out of my mind. I might have protested once while I was capable of coherent thought, but I don't remember his answer, or even if there was any. Perhaps he was as lost as I was in the moment.

There was movement, and kisses everywhere, and more whispered, tender words. There were hot, quickening breaths and hands wandering everywhere. There were promises I knew he would not be able to keep but didn't care anyway. I just closed my eyes and sank into the sweet, blissful darkness.

Until there was another knock on my door. A loud one, followed by the terrifying sound of the hinges squeaking as the door opened. It could have been a maid, but no, in my heart I already knew who it would be.

I knew I had sinned, and it wasn't going to be undiscovered.

Or unpunished.

There was the tap-tap of boots, and Anthony came into my sight as I sat up in the bed, clutching the duvet to cover my nakedness. Beside me, Edward straightened as well, though he didn't bother to cover himself above his waist.

I knew Anthony must have been furious enough to kill me, but when he spoke, his tone was as calm as it was while asking after my health. Somehow, that scared me more than if he had begun to shout at me immediately.

"Isabella," he said softly but clearly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Anthony—" Edward began.

" _You_ don't get to say anything, Edward," said my husband, as quick as the snap of a whip through the air. "I want to hear what _my wife_ has to say in this matter."

I looked up then, just a brief glance, but it was enough. The ruddy hue of his face, the steeliness of his eyes and the vein bulging on his forehead, all assured me that he was about to explode with anger.

"I am sorry, my lord," I managed to croak though my mouth was dry with fear. I had never seen or heard any instance of his being cruel, but even a kind man must have a limit, wouldn't he? "I—I have committed a sin. I deserve to be punished for it."

"No," Edward gasped, "Bella, don't do that. Tell him how you _really_ feel about me."

Was he mad? Did he wish to die by his cousin's hand at that very moment?

"Edward," Anthony warned, "not a word, now. I want you out of this country, understand? Take whatever you require, and leave before the dawn breaks."

I closed my eyes and thanked the heavens that he was letting Edward live, even though in exile.

"But—"

"Please, Edward," I pleaded, "I am begging you, don't argue. You know what we did was wrong. Go."

He nodded once, resignation clear on his face. Then he got out of the bed, pulled on his damp clothes, and left.

I waited for Anthony to pronounce my punishment. Was he going to send me back to my parents? Would he let them know what my crime was? Would the whole village know?

"Isabella," he said, sounding tired, "I cannot bear to have a scandal associated with my family. You are my wife, and you are carrying the Masen heir, therefore you will stay here and carry on as before. Also, you will never try to find out Edward's whereabouts or contact him. Do I have your word on this?"

I felt almost light-headed with relief. He was not going to send me away. My parents would never come to know of my shame. My siblings would not have to listen to the villagers' barbs or become a laughing-stock.

I did not deserve such kindness from the one whom I had wronged. If I had to thank him on my knees as long as I lived, it would not be enough.

"You have my word."

I did not know then that I had lost him as well as Edward. I had no idea that what I considered a lack of punishment would become a punishment in itself, the greatest punishment of all.

That day was the beginning of the darkest period of my life.

* * *

 **A.N.** : This was the last chapter in which the past is mentioned. I know most of the readers wanted to know what happened to make Edward leave for France. Hope this answered your questions!

Who would you blame for Bella's transgression? Bella, Edward or Anthony?

Are you looking forward to the various contests on ff? There is the P.S. I Love You Contest, the Falling into Autumn Contest and the Tricks And Treats Contests coming up. Check them out and put them on your Alert list!


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter-29**

Winter has come and gone, and spring has melted the memories of cold, harsh days, along with the ice that used to form on the village pond and on the steps of the church. It has been as long as any other winter, and we have had our share of snowy, blustery days.

Unlike the past few winters, I have not felt the cold, gloomy days affect me much. I have been in my own little world, warm and secure in my husband's love.

My mother, sister and aunt have visited as much as possible, and I returned their visits some times. Edward is overprotective and thinks it is dangerous for me to travel much while there is ice on the narrow path leading to the village.

Unlike the last time, Elizabeth has been a regular visitor to our house, and a welcome one. I cannot ask her enough questions about Edward as a child, but I also listen with rapt attention when she reminisces about _her_ childhood, the little town she grew up in and the happy years she spent on the estate with her husband.

As for Lizzie, she has always been a happy child, but I can see her blossoming more with all the love and attention she is receiving nowadays. She is becoming better at sketching too, and she was utterly fascinated by the old sketches Elizabeth has. For the past four months, she has been trying to sketch most everybody she knows, be it her grandparents or Mrs Newton. The later was clearly embarrassed to be a subject, but just like all of us, she could not refuse the darling girl.

She even put her best smile for the sketch. That was very amusing to see!

The observant child that she was, Lizzie noticed my increasing girth even under gowns that had been let out at the waist. And of course her little ears picked up parts of conversations between adults, so it wasn't long that she put two and two together.

We had recently allowed her to join us for lunch, as that was an informal meal most of the times. She minded her manners fairly well for her age, so we have had no reason to rescind the arrangement. Then one day she surprised us by asking if she was going to have a brother like her friend had a while ago.

Elizabeth, who was with us, was the only person at the table to muster a coherent reply. I was too embarrassed by my daughter's perspicacity. Children were not supposed to notice these things. I remembered how surprised I was when my siblings were born, and how readily I had accepted my aunt's explanation that the stork had brought them so that I would have someone to play with.

I wasn't sure I would be able to manage that quite so glibly, were Lizzie to inquire into the means of the baby's arrival. I hoped she wouldn't think about it.

I glanced at Edward, but he was focussing on his food, his cheeks pink and eyes looking down. Thank heavens Elizabeth wasn't bothered by Lizzie's unexpected query. She looked directly at her, smiled and confirmed that yes, she was going to be an elder sister. And wouldn't it be nice to have a baby in the house?

Lizzie wrinkled her little nose and pondered the question. "I am not sure. Don't they sleep a lot, and cry all the time when they are awake?"

"Well, yes," said Elizabeth patiently, "a baby is very small in the beginning, you know? It needs to grow up to become as smart as you are, and for that it has to sleep a lot. And since it cannot speak, it cries to let others know that it is hungry. But all babies like to play, so you can do that, and teach it the things you know as soon as it can talk."

Her answer seemed to make sense to Lizzie, and she nodded and started eating again.

The next morning, when Edward and I went to see Lizzie after breaking our fast, we found her holding her sketchbook behind her as if hiding it, and a wide smile spread on her angelic face.

"What have you drawn this time, sweetheart?" asked Edward, going down on his knees so that they were at eye level and opening his arms.

Lizzie walked into them with a confidence that spoke of complete trust. "I have drawn our family, Papa. Do you want to see it?"

Both of us professed our curiosity to see the picture, so Lizzy made a great show of slowly bringing the book in our sight. Once she displayed the page to us, she stood back and waited for our comments.

Edward and I stared speechlessly at the picture. We had seen the figures she had drawn before, but this was the first time there were so many people on a page. Even though the presentation was simple, it was easy to recognize Edward, me and Lizzie. But what grabbed our attention was that both Edward and I appeared to be carrying a little figure each in our arms. Not much of them could be seen apart from their faces as everything else seemed to be wrapped in a long cloth, but it was clear that they were babies.

"This is very nice, Lizzie," said Edward, kissing her cheek in a fond manner. "Why are their two babies, may I ask?"

Lizzie bounced on her chubby feet. "It is because I would like a sister and a brother, Papa," she announced gravely. "Mama has one of each, so I should have them too."

Edward nodded at this logical statement, even though his lips twitched with amusement. "But sweetheart, we can have only one baby at a time. You will have to wait for the other one. After all, your uncle Mike is younger than your aunt Angela, isn't he?"

Lizzie appeared to consider this with profound seriousness. "You are right. Mama," she continued, turning towards me, "can you not give us two babies at the same time?"

Well, the stork-brings-babies theory was out of the window. Apparently, my bright daughter had decided that I was the one bringing the baby into this world.

"No darling, babies require a lot of care, so I am going to have just one this time."

"But you can have another after this one grows up like me, can't you? I will help you take care of it."

She looked at me so hopefully that I could not deny her. Also, before I could answer her, Edward ruffled her hair and said, "Of course mama can give you a second brother or sister, sweetheart. In fact, if you ask her very nicely, she may even give a third one. Would you like that?"

"Really?" Lizzie said, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Can you have more than two, Mama?"

I glared at Edward, only to discover him smiling smugly. My lord knew very well that I could not say 'no' to Lizzie while there was a very good chance that we might in fact have more than two children. He did like to put me on the spot!

"We will see, Lizzie. If all of you (here I gave Edward a rather stern look) behave well and if I feel happy, then I might have one more baby."

"Of course we will behave well, Mama," she assured me. "Papa, please keep mama happy. I want more brothers and sisters. Then I will have so many to play with!"

Edward bit his lip, probably to suppress his smile. "I will do my best to keep your mother happy, Lizzie. Now, why don't you get ready for your riding lesson? Snowball must be waiting for you."

As we walked out of the room, he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, "Did I succeed in making you happy last night, Isabella, or should I try again before I leave for the day?"

-ATW-

"Jasper is going to leave us," says Edward, spreading butter on his lightly toasted slice of bread.

"Why?" I ask, sampling another of the cook's light, flaky pastry. As my time to deliver comes closer, my appetite increases. It is a wonder I have not become as round as a pumpkin!

When I was increasing with Lizzie, I had a poor appetite, a combination of guilt over cheating on Anthony and worry over Edward's wellbeing in a strange land. As a result, I ate just enough to sustain the baby I carried. I remember my mother fretting over my pale cheeks and dull eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to care. It was only after Lizzie was born that I woke up from my apathetic state and began to take better care of myself, for it was the least I owed to her as a mother.

This time of course I had no reason to be happy and eat well, so I had been increasing in girth at a regular pace. Also, my face has come to resemble the full moon, so round it has become. Once or twice I mentioned this to Edward, but he refused to see the joke, insisting that it made him happy to see me well fed.

Also, he proved his liking for my body by bestowing his attention on me every night in our bed. And actions speak louder than words, don't they?

He purses his lips lightly. "You know how devoted he was to Anthony. He hasn't been happy since he passed away. At first he stayed because I asked him to, and then because it would have been unsafe to travel during the winter months. But now that the weather is better and the roads free of ice, he wishes to leave."

"So where does he plan to go?"

"He says he has family in Surrey, so that's where he is heading. A cousin of his in boat-building, and he has invited Jasper to join him in the business." He shrugs. "It's all right: I did fine without a valet for all these years, and I can manage now."

"Or you could train someone," I suggest with a teasing smile. "I am sure you are not very difficult to work for. A young lad from the village should be able to look after your needs."

His answering smile is positively wicked. "I prefer _you_ to look after my needs, my darling wife. But if you insist, then yes, I can train someone to look after my clothes." A wink follows this scandalous statement.

"Edward!" My face is aflame with acute embarrassment. It is true that there is nobody in the room right now, but still, it is not our bedroom!

Before I can berate him further, a footman enters the room with the mail. He places the silver salver on the long table and withdraws. Since it is closer to me than Edward and I can see the cover of a woman's journal peeking through the various envelops, I go through the stack and pick it up. There are a couple of letters from ladies of my acquaintance, probably asking after my health, and one which for some strange reason has been addressed to Anthony. I mean, it has been almost a year since he passed away. Should not everyone who knew him be aware of this fact by now?

I pass the salver to Edward and check the other side of the envelope, curious to see who the sender could be. However, there is no return address. The handwriting on the front is rather untidy, and the name of the shire has been misspelled. Even the family name is written wrong. It is a surprise that this letter even made it here!

I carefully tear open the envelope. If it is anything related to the estate, I will pass it to Edward.

The single sheet of paper is filled with words scrawled across without care for legibility or spelling, some of them crossed and overwritten. The ink has faded from certain places, making it impossible to decipher the words. Maybe the writer spilled water or some other liquid on it.

"My dear Anthony,

I know I am not supposed to write to you. I remember your promise to make everything right when I left home. You said you are my brother I will do right by you. You said I am forever indebted to you give me some time and then she will be your in name and deed. I have been waiting patiently, but it has been three years! How long can I wait? What have you ben doing there anthony while I am dying here day by day. I cant eat I cant breath I cant live without her. I need her like you ned air my brother I am beging you send her to me I don't want anything else not your estat not your walth I want her only only her. My dater is growing without her father it is yor fault how can you be so cruel? I want them with me to see them daily to hug them to love them what else do I live for in this wold. It is enuf you don't love her you dont need her like I do. You only make her misrabel my darling how she spend her days crying do you even look in her eyes I know you cant you are a lily-livered cowrd. I will come and take them away I don't care what people say you can deal with them deal with your father too. What can he do beat you you are a man not a child stop being scred of him all the time. I love you brother you have done much for me but what more you want from me?"

My heart speeds up as I read the letter. There is no name at the end but who else could it be? Anthony might have other cousins but it is only Edward who is close enough to call him brother. Did he write this letter while he was in France? Was he drunk to write like this? But what did he mean by it all? Who is this woman he refers to as _her_? Can he possibly mean me?

I read it again, and once again. This time my eyes become riveted to one sentence—my daughter is growing up without her father and it is your fault. How can you be so cruel?

With trembling hands I turn the sheet of paper to see if anything is written on its back. My own name jumps out at me—Bella Bella Bella! Come to me, my love!

Suddenly the room is too hot and there is not enough air to breathe. I hear Edward's voice, but I cannot understand what he is saying. I look up to find him beside me, holding my shoulder, his lips moving. And then his face goes out of focus, even as the paper in my hand flutters away to the floor.

* * *

 **A.N.** : And there it is-the truth. I must confess Edward's letter made me quite emotional!

I have not done the crossed and overwritten part in the letter as it would be terrible to look at, and of course the spelling mistakes are intentional.


	32. Chapter 32

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! I could not answer most of them as the site had some problems, and also because it would have given away too much.

An extra-long chapter to make up for the delay, and lots of answers!

* * *

 **Chapter-30**

"Bella? Bella, sweetheart, please wake up."

Edward's voice. That is Edward's voice. But there is something different about it.

Why is he asking me to wake up? Is it morning already? If it is, why do I feel so tired, as if I have not slept at all?

"Carlisle, why isn't she waking up? It has been hours!"

What would Carlisle be doing here so early? Did he come for dinner last night and stay? Where is my aunt then, and good heavens, why would he be in my bedroom while I was asleep?

"She has received a nasty shock, Edward. My guess is that she does not wish to wake up and face the reality. There is nothing wrong with her otherwise."

Shock? What is my uncle talking about? I am just tired and sleepy.

"This is all my fault, Carlisle. I should have never listened to Anthony, never been a part of that insane scheme of his, never agreed to deceive my sweet girl in such a horrible manner. Oh, what all I have put her through! She will not forgive me for this. Ever."

A sigh, then silence. Apparently Carlisle has nothing to say in answer to Edward's self-flagellation.

A part of my brain wonders what unforgivable crime my husband has committed, and what could have been my late husband's role in it. How could I not know anything about it?

Another sigh and a set of footsteps, the sound fading away gradually. Someone has left the room. Edward, or Carlisle?

The answer comes in the sound of anguished sobs, followed by a soft thud. My hand in his. Muffled words break the sobs, begging my forgiveness, begging me to wake up.

I frown. I do not like that Edward is in so much pain. He is a good man. Whatever he has done cannot be _that_ terrible. I fight the fog in my mind and the lethargy weighing my eyelids down, finally succeeding in opening my eyes.

"Edward," I whisper, blinking to clear my vision. My throat feels so dry.

His face comes into focus as he gets up from the floor and sits beside me. His eyes are red, and when I raise my hand and touch his cheek, it is wet with tears.

"Bella, you're awake. Oh Lord, thank you!"

He closes his eyes for a second and bows his head. Then he gazes at me tenderly and strokes my forehead.

"How are you feeling, my love?"

I swallow painfully. "Thirsty."

"Oh yes, yes, of course. I will get you some water."

I struggle to sit up while he pours water from the pitcher. He brings the tumbler to me and helps me get comfortable, supporting my back with a pillow.

"Drink slowly, all right? Carlisle said if you drink too much at once, you might feel sick."

I nod, and then take a few sips of water, small ones. With my throat less parched, my mind begins to work. A host of questions burst into it as I remember Edward's face before losing consciousness. I had been reading something…

"The letter," I gasp sharply. Disjointed sentences float into my mind, some of them standing out more clearly than others. _My daughter is growing up without her father…I will come and take them away…_ And on the back of the sheet, a cry of pain and longing… _Bella, Bella, Bella, come to me, my love…_

Even though I don't understand the full meaning of that missive, my heart clenches with an unknown fear. Something is very wrong here, or at least it was, to make Edward pen that drunken rant and call Anthony a lily-livered coward from across the channel.

Edward's whole face becomes a grimace of pain. Slowly, he nods in answer to my unasked question.

"But…why?"

The glass trembles in my hands. He takes it and places it on the small stool by the bed.

"You are going to hate me," he mumbles, not looking at me.

"Edward, please tell me why you wrote that letter to Anthony."

He looks up then. "I was drunk that night, and out of my mind with worry that Anthony wasn't going to keep his word. It had been three years, and my hope had turned to despair."

"What word?"

"That he would leave this place, and you would be mine. Or he would send you and Lizzie to me in secret. I don't know how he was going to do that, but he assured me he would find a way."

My head whirls. "I don't understand. Why? I was _his_ _wife_!"

He takes my hands in his clammy ones. "Only in name, Bella. He didn't…he never consummated the marriage. He couldn't do it because…he didn't like women."

My brow wrinkles as I try to understand. "You mean that he didn't like me? Then why did he marry me?"

He shakes his head as his lips twist with disdain. "No, I mean that he didn't like _any_ woman, not in the way a man does. He could not be a proper husband to a woman, could not make love to her because he was attracted to men."

"How…What do you…" I can't find the words to ask the question I want to, in response to this unbelievable statement. "That is impossible. Impossible! You are lying to me!"

Edward shrinks back as I snatch my hands from his, my face hot with anger. "Aren't you ashamed to malign a dead man, that too your brother? You know that he can't come back to defend himself! Why would you do that, Edward?"

"Do you at least know that some men are like this, Bella?" His tone is patient. "You have led such a sheltered life here…"

Is he being condescending to me? Just because he has spent some years on the continent, does he think that I am a mere country bumpkin?

"Of course I know that there are such men," I say scathingly. "I am not a complete ignoramus, Edward! I may have spent my whole life in the country, but you forget that I have entertained nobility here, in this very house, for years. I have heard some very enlightening discussions among the ladies who have been my guests."

"Indeed." His expression is almost amused now. Almost. But his eyes are still sad. "So why can't you believe that Anthony was one of them?"

"Because they don't get married," I reply triumphantly. "I overheard Lady Marlow and Lady Windermere talking about some or other lord once. His family was sad that he would die without an heir, but he had stated quite firmly that he was not going to marry a woman when he liked only men. If Anthony was like that, he wouldn't have married me in the first place."

Edward sighs. "Not every such man has the courage to declare his proclivity openly, my sweet girl. You heard only about one man who told his family he was inclined to love other men, but the truth is that the majority of them keep their affections a secret. They are scared of the judgment their family, friends and the society in general would heap upon them. Some men have been sent to prison for having sex with other men, some have even committed suicide because they could see no way out. As for Anthony, he shouldn't have married, but he was too scared of James. Can you imagine what would have happened if he had confessed to his father that he loved men?"

"James would have killed him," I answer without even thinking about it. There is no doubt in my mind that that's exactly what would have happened.

"He married you only because it would pacify James. He even thought that he could give you a child or two—some men manage to do that—and you wouldn't expect him to come to your bed after that. But when the time came to consummate the marriage, he could not bring himself to do it. Remember he left you on your wedding night and did not return?"

I nod. Of course I remember. "James had summoned him. Anthony told me I should go to sleep because their talk would take time and I must be tired."

I had thought it was very considerate of him.

"James _had_ called him, but he could have returned and spent the night with you, however late it had been."

"And the next night…all the nights I thought I spent with him…"

He exhales heavily. "It was I, it was always I in your bed. He fell on his knees and begged me, reminding me of our childhood bond. When I refused, he said he would commit suicide rather than face his father. I could not take the chance; I could not have his death on my conscience, Bella."

He pauses for a second, seemingly gathering his courage. "I was also in love with you. Even though I knew what I was doing was wrong, I could not resist the temptation."

"Why did you not ask my father for my hand then?" I ask, shocked. "Why did you let Anthony marry me?"

A wry smile. "Really? You think your father would have agreed to give your hand to me? Bella, I was nothing but the manager of Anthony's stables. I had not gone to college, so I had no prospects of my own. I wasn't even very ambitious. That happened only after you encouraged me to make something of myself. Your confidence in my ability to succeed made me apply myself wholeheartedly to business while in exile, and I did succeed."

"I am gratified that my words meant so much to you, Edward," I murmur, feeling both happy and sad at once. "But you know, my father wouldn't have refused your offer. He is only a gentleman farmer, not a nobleman. And even though you managed the stables, you did have the Masen name."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "What good was my name without money, sweetheart? Your father might have been a farmer, but he was well-to-do nevertheless. He would certainly have married you off to a lawyer or doctor, or a clergyman with a good living at his disposal, had Anthony not proposed so quickly."

"You should have—" I begin, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"My lady, the good doctor wishes to speak with you."

Edward looks at me as if asking whether or not he should let Carlisle in. I shrug, and he gets up and opens the door.

Carlisle seems to be his calm self, but his tone is worried. "Isabella, how are you feeling now? Any dizziness or nausea? Any pain anywhere?"

So he _was_ worried, in spite of his assurance to Edward that there was nothing wrong with me. And right now he sounds more like my uncle than a doctor.

"I feel much better, Uncle. And no, there is no dizziness or pain. I just feel tired."

He nods. "That is not surprising. You have received quite a shock. Thankfully, both you and the baby are all right."

I glance at Edward before turning back to my uncle. "So…you know everything?"

"I do," he says with a sigh. "We discussed the whole sad history while we were waiting for you to regain consciousness. Honestly, I don't know what to say."

"Just keep it to yourself, Carlisle," pleads Edward. "Treat is as you would a doctor-patient confidential matter. Please, don't even tell your wife."

"What do _you_ think, Isabella?"

"I agree with Edward, Uncle. Aunt Esme will feel honour-bound to let my parents know, even though it will cause nothing but bitterness and unhappiness. Anthony is dead, and Edward and I…we will talk about it. What is the use of making my parents suffer for something that cannot be changed?"

A thin smile stretches on his lips. "How wise you are, my niece! Yes, Edward confessed to me everything as one would confess his sins to a priest, and like a priest I will keep his secrets—his and Anthony's. You have nothing to worry."

He addresses Edward then. "I will take my leave, Edward. Send word to me if I am required, and I will come immediately."

"And Isabella, have something to eat right now. If you don't feel like having lunch, some toast and tea will do. You have to think of the baby too."

He leaves us. Alice brings us a tray with toast, a sandwich for Edward, and tea. There is also a bowl of fruit.

"Mistress Stanley is quite worried about you, my lady. She has asked if you would like to have anything special for dinner this evening."

I smile, grateful for their concern, for Alice too looks worried, even though she does not say it. "Say thank you to her, Alice. I am sorry she had to make extra for me at lunch time, and I will have whatever she has planned for dinner. No need to change anything in the menu."

"Perhaps we can have dinner a little early?" Edward suggests. Alice makes a curtsy and leaves.

"Does everyone in the house know?" I ask. What a spectacle I must have created, fainting at the breakfast table!

Edward's lips twist on one side. "No, I don't think so. I broke down in front of Carlisle, but that was here, in this room, and we were alone. He asked Mrs Stanley to tell the servants that you were indisposed but it was nothing to be worried about. The footmen only saw me carrying you from the dining room; they don't know why you fainted."

'The letter…where is it?"

He glances at the fireplace, where a healthy fire is burning.

"Oh."

"I thought it best, in case it got into wrong hands."

We have the light meal, and then I send for Lizzie. She has been joining us for lunch lately, and I don't want her to feel neglected. Even though I want to ask Edward many more questions, I spend more than hour chatting and playing with my daughter. Sweet girl that she is, she has brought two of her dolls to my room to cheer me up. It seems Maggie has told her that I wasn't feeling well.

"My dolls made me feel better when I had a cold, Mamma," she informs me in her sweet treble. "If you play with them, you will feel better."

Edward smiles a genuine smile at this, as do I. She has always been good at cheering me up, but today my thoughts are more busy thinking about Edward and her. Lizzie is Edward's daughter. _My daughter is also Edward's daughter._ I shake my head, unable to believe it even now.

I do feel better afterwards, though it's probably because of Lizzie's sunshiny presence than that of her dolls. After she goes to her room, I ask Edward if we can walk in the rose garden for a while. The weather is quite fair, and I assure him that some fresh air will be beneficial for me. He makes sure that I am dressed warmly, and then we proceed outside.

The rose garden is not blooming yet, of course, but there are tiny buds cropping up on every bush. There is still a chill in the air, so I wrap my shawl around my shoulders snugly. After strolling around for a bit, we sit on a bench, having made sure first that it is dry.

Edward still isn't looking at me. While he was chatting with Lizzie, he had been cheerful enough, but now his shoulders are bowed and his brow lined with worry. And I…I don't know how I should feel.

On one hand, I can understand why he helped Anthony deceive me. His loyalty to his cousin has always been unquestionable, and the bond they have shared since childhood is extremely strong. If he really believed that Anthony would take his life rather than share his secret with James, he would agree to do whatever was required to help his cousin. I think of my sister in a situation where she might be desperate enough to commit suicide. If there was anything, anything at all I could do to save her, I would do it even though it might be wrong in the eyes of religion and society. So how can I blame Edward for his role in the deception?

On the other hand, I cannot understand his passivity. He loved me but allowed his cousin to marry me, a man who did not have a liking for women in the first place. Even if Anthony convinced him that he could do the needful in bed and give me a child or two, how did that excuse the duplicity of the whole plan? Did he imagine that I would be happy to live a life where my husband would only be the master of the house and the provider for our children? Did he think the material comforts I would be surrounded with in my position as the lady of the manor would be enough to make me feel complete? How could he have misjudged me in such a manner?

"What are you thinking, Bella?" he asks softly, but it still rouses me from my troubled state of mind.

I sigh deeply. "Edward, I can understand your willingness to help your cousin. What I cannot understand is what kind of happiness you imagined I would have, living with Anthony. Did you think me so shallow as to be content with a title and the trappings that come with it, while my husband would barely touch me once he had done his duty? And what about your feelings? How would you have lived here, seeing me every day as another man's wife, unhappy but inaccessible to you? How would you have lasted years like that?"

"You are right, I didn't last very long, did I?" he huffs, and then pulls at his hair hard enough to wince. "I don't know _what_ I was thinking, Bella. I was barely twenty, too young and foolish to know anything about women, or even to understand the depth of my own feelings. I knew I loved you, but I didn't know how much. It was only when I witnessed you and Anthony say 'I do' to each other that I realised the extent of my loss."

"When you kissed my hand…" I whisper, remembering the pain in his eyes.

"I could only think—today I have lost her to another man, for ever. I can't do anything about it now. Even more painful than that was the look of shock and betrayal on your face. Bella, it was like someone had stabbed me in the heart."

I shake my head to clear it. "Yes, that. Why did you come to meet me instead of Anthony? Was he really that drunk he couldn't be there himself?"

He nods slowly. "He was drunk, that part was true. However, he hadn't passed out. He was extremely nervous, and he knew postponing the meeting wouldn't help. It would have been the same next time also, so he asked me to go instead, assuring me that once you were married to him things would be different."

"But they weren't."

"No, they were even worse. The first night he didn't return to your room on the pretext of you being tired, but there was nothing he could say the second night, or the nights after that. I don't know if James was suspicious as to his inclination towards men, but he certainly would have hounded him until he had an heir. At least having Lizzie put his suspicions to rest. Still, Anthony must have run out of excuses for not having another child in all the years he was here as your husband."

"That's why James said that," I murmur, remembering. "He told you not to make excuses like Anthony did, regarding my health or some such thing. At that time I thought Anthony couldn't bear to touch me, or it was his way of punishing me for my infidelity. But all the while he was saving himself from his father's anger."

"You must be furious with both of us," says Edward, so quietly that I could barely hear him. "I wish there was some way I could change everything, Bella. If I could go back in time, I swear that I would have done everything differently. I wouldn't have destroyed your life just because he was a coward and I a fool. You were the only innocent party in this whole affair."

I actually snort at his statement. "Innocent? Far from it, Edward. Deceived, yes. Betrayed, yes. But not innocent. How could I be that, when I allowed myself to fall for you even though I was married to another? Just because I was unaware of _who_ was fulfilling the husbandly duty in my bed doesn't make my behaviour morally right. And that last day when I let you make love to me, knowing fully well it was wrong? Maybe I have sinned less than you and Anthony, but I have sinned nevertheless. There had to be some repercussion for that."

If anything, this makes Edward look even guiltier. "I didn't give you much choice, did I? I almost attacked you that day, knowing fully well you were feeling lonely, and that you were attracted to me. I took advantage of your emotional state."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't say no to you, did I? I wanted you as much as you wanted me, Edward. Both of us were at fault." Then I remember something else. "The night before, I thought I heard you and Anthony arguing outside my room. What was that about?"

He looks up at the clear sky, with a few fluffy white clouds floating by. The scene is so peaceful, and yet it cannot do away with the chaos in my mind, and most probably in Edward's. When his eyes turn to me, they are dark with untold misery.

"Anthony could see that I was falling deeper in love with you with every passing day. When I told him what had happened after you fell from your horse, he became worried that sooner or later someone would notice our attraction and there would be a scandal. Maybe he had imagined that having you to myself during the nights would be enough for me? Anyway, as soon as it came to light that you were with child, he forbade me to meet you. And I avoided you during the daytime because I knew very well that I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you."

I nod, thinking of those months. "Even if you had been able to keep your distance, I might have slipped in some way. I kept on telling myself that it was wrong for me to be attracted to you, but it was so difficult to stay away. I felt incomplete somehow, looking for you every day but only managing to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I was happy that I was going to be a mother, and yet unhappy that I couldn't have you near me."

Edward draws me into his embrace and buries his face in my hair. "I am so, so sorry, my darling. It should have been the happiest time of your life, and I—we turned it into a nightmare. I will never forgive myself for that."

Could _I_ forgive him? So far it had seemed to me that Anthony had played upon Edward's loyalty and friendship, and Edward had thought himself too poor to marry me but could not resist falling in love with me even though he must have known nothing would come of it.

If I blamed him for that, I should blame myself in equal measure for not resisting him.

"So what happened then? Why were you shouting at him?"

He raises his head, lets a little distance between us so he can look at me. "That night I threatened Anthony that I would tell you everything if he did not, or at least if he couldn't find a way for us to be together. I was quite desperate by then, I suppose, for I proposed to him that he should just let us leave for the continent quietly, and he could tell people that we had run away. I didn't even care how it would besmirch your good name, Bella. Forgive me for being so thoughtless; it was a foolish plan."

I stare at him in amazement and then shake my head. "What did Anthony say to that?"

"He refused, of course, to let me do either. When I persisted, he proposed to me that we should first find out how strongly _you_ felt about me. If you really loved me, you would confess so in front of him, and he would allow us to leave. If you did not, I would leave alone, but he would find a way for us to be together later on, maybe bring you to the continent and fake an accident, tell everybody that you drowned or fell or a cliff or something. In both cases, he agreed to give me enough money so that I could start a small business and we could live comfortably."

"That was completely unfair to me, Edward," I gasp, my eyes wide with disbelief and indignation. "Did you really think I would confess my love for you in front of my husband? I wasn't even sure of _what_ I felt for you, and I already felt so guilty for what I did understand. And shouldn't you have let me know that you loved me _before_ letting Anthony in the room, minutes after we had been intimate? Can you even imagine how terrible I felt at that moment?"

My voice rises towards the end, becomes shrill enough that even I notice it. Edward's expression is pinched, his eyes almost squeezed shut. When he finally answers me, his voice has a slight quiver in it.

"I know, Bella, I know that _now_. I have beaten myself countless times during the last six years for being so idiotic. Obviously it had seemed a good idea to me at _that_ time. I had convinced myself that you must know how much I loved you and would not hesitate to declare yours." He exhales heavily. "If only I had _talked_ to you that afternoon instead of giving in to my baser instincts!"

I have been thinking of something I wanted to ask about all this while. "Edward, did you know that Anthony was going to walk in at that moment? Was that why you had approached me, so that he could ask me how I felt about you?"

He looks puzzled. "No, I had assumed he would be back in the evening. I have no idea why he came back so early. Though of course I wasn't supposed to be in your room then, so it was probably a matter of chance. Or perhaps he wanted to discuss something with you?"

"Perhaps," I agree absently. It doesn't matter now.

We go inside soon after. There are more questions I want to ask him, but I have had enough for one day. I ask Edward to give me a day or two to digest all the information he has heaped upon me, and he readily agrees. I suspect he will need something stronger than wine tonight before he can go to sleep.

* * *

 **A.N. :** Phew, that was heavy! Did I miss anything? Let me know and I will include it in the next chapter.

Fic Rec: 'The Cliffs' and 'Comp Sem 101', by BornOnHalloween. Trust me, you wouldn't want to miss these!


	33. Chapter 33

Thank you for your enthusiastic reviews! There were a few doubts and questions, but unfortunately we can't get to them in this chapter as there is so much else going on. Next one then!

Also, I love how positive you people are on the whole situation. The majority of you agreed that even though it was sad, Edward and Bella could put everything behind them and move on with their life. Very wise!

* * *

 **Chapter-31**

I spend the rest of the day, and most of the night thinking about the extraordinary revelations I have been subjected to. I know that sleep won't come easily, so I don't even try.

What twists and turns life takes sometimes! As a maid I had never even dreamt that such a drama would occur in my life. My imagination was limited to what I had seen in my parents' marriage—a steady affection for each other and their children, a companionship that would last till one of them passed away, and the responsibilities for their family and the society in general. They had disagreements, yes, but they never escalated to heated arguments. I could not imagine one of them doing anything to hurt the other, let alone betray their trust in any manner. There could be no situation where my mother would consider leaving my father and her home, or he her and his children.

For it did occur to me, leaving Edward and the estate behind, with their secrets and complications. Making a new life for me and my children. It was more than a passing thought, even though I knew it was impossible.

Where would I go? Could I go back to my parents and be dependent on them, and for how long? What explanation would I give? I could not tell them the truth, and no other reason could be strong enough to leave my husband. Especially a husband who they knew doted on me and Lizzie.

It would be such a scandal too. I knew nobody in the village who had left their spouse for good, and only two women who had left their husbands for a short time because of some terrible fight. I could perhaps ask Edward to make an arrangement for me to live elsewhere; that was indeed possible, and he would probably not refuse me out of guilt. It would provide people fodder for gossip for years, I supposed, but at least it wouldn't be a scandal. And among the nobility it was not an uncommon happening, so nobody would bat an eye.

But did I really want to? I had married Edward expecting we would live together for the rest of our life. Even when I had got married the first time and been upset at Anthony (on discovering that he was not the man who had met me in the sun room) I was still _his_ wife, and that was that. With Edward it had been more complicated, my head demanding that I remain loyal to Anthony while my heart wanted to give in to the attraction I felt for Edward. But once we were married, there was no question of not being a good wife to him and remaining with him till my last breath.

Of course, now I also love him.

Curiously enough, when I picture living apart from Edward, it is not my feelings alone that stop me from making an actual plan. In that picture I look miserable, and so does Lizzie, but Edward looks the most miserable of all of us. The love that he feels for both of us and showers on us most generously—that love I cannot doubt for a single moment. And what of our baby? Edward had vowed not to miss even a day in his growing up, but if we lived apart, would it be possible for him to see him or her every day? If not, would it not be a crime on my part to deprive Edward of seeing his child every morning and evening?

I cannot do that. I cannot keep a father away from his children because of a sin he had committed as a callow youth years ago. I cannot see him sad and guilt-ridden for the rest of his life. And if I am honest with myself, I do not want to stay away from him.

Whatever happened in the past was the responsibility of all three of us. Anthony is beyond any human frailty now, eaten away by the guilt of deceiving me and perhaps of keeping Edward away from me and Lizzie. But Edward and I have paid the price too. Should we be not absolved of our past sins and allowed to live in content with our children? Why should I throw away the only chance at happiness I have now?

At dinner Edward looks sad, yet he makes light conversation and tries to smile bravely. Mrs Stanley asks about my health and fusses over me in general, almost like my own mother would in this situation. And I had believed that she was a cold woman until I got married to Edward. How wrong I had been!

Even Jasper makes an appearance at the end of the meal and enquires as to how I am feeling. I assure him that I am feeling perfectly fine and ask him about his plans. He informs me that he will be leaving early in the morning tomorrow.

"I will take my leave now, my lady, for I do not wish to disturb you in the morning."

"Is there something Lord Edward can do for you, Jasper?" I ask, feeling bad for him. "Do you need any kind of help to secure your future plans?"

He bows formally. "My lady is very kind. But I have enough to go by, and my cousin has offered me a job, so I will be all right. May the good Lord bless this household, for I have received nothing but kindness from its occupants. Good night my lady; my lord."

He withdraws then, leaving me to mull over the vagaries of life. As long as Anthony was alive, Jasper must have assumed he would spend his life serving him. Still, at least he had a family that could support him while he began a new career. Some people did not even have that to look forward to.

I suppose most valets would have tried to go into service with a new master. Perhaps Jasper just does not have the heart to replace Anthony.

Edward walks with me to my bedroom, but makes no move to come inside. I have asked him to give me time, and he is doing exactly that. With a 'sleep well' and a kiss on my forehead, he bids me good night.

Alice brings me a cup pf herbal tea from Mrs Stanley, saying it will help me sleep. I have it with thanks, but it is a long time before my eyes close in repose.

My sleep is heavy and plagued with conflicting dreams, and when I wake up the remnants of the last dream are still lingering in my sleep-dazed mind. In this dream, Edward and Anthony were shouting at each other, their voices growing louder and louder. I cannot remember what they were arguing over, because even though they were shouting their words didn't make any sense to me. I shake my head and blink, trying to clear my head, but the shouting persists.

This is not a dream. Someone is actually yelling, mostly using swear words I have never heard anyone speak in mixed company.

I frown. Is Mr Stanley scolding a servant? I am aware that he does so sometimes, but he is always very dignified. I cannot for the life of me imagine him losing his temper and creating such a racket, let alone use words like _cur_ and _mongrel_ , to say nothing of others.

Before I can decide what to do, the door to my room is pushed open and Alice rushes inside. Her eyes are wild, her face pale and her whole body trembling. But what alarms me the most is the thin rivulet of blood making its way down from her temple to her chin.

"Alice, what is the matter?" I ask, my heartbeat speeding up. I have never seen her in such a state; she is always calm and smiling.

"My lady, it's Lord Masen! He is going to kill Jasper!"

I stare at her in astonishment. Has she lost her mind?

"What in heaven's name are you talking about, Alice? Why would Edward want to kill Jasper?"

She shakes her head frantically. "Not Lord Edward, my lady, Lord James—he is beating Jasper with his cane. I tried to stop him, but—"

As soon as I hear _James_ , I pull on my robe and rush to Edward's room. Well, as much as I can in my heavily pregnant state. And I don't knock.

"Edward!" My voice breaks with fear as I reach his bed. What is James doing here? He was supposed to come here only after the birth of our baby.

He sits up so suddenly that I take a step back, startled. The next moment he is on his feet and reaching for my hand, his eyes worried.

"Bella, what happened? Are you all right? Is there something wrong with the baby?"

Of course his first thought would be this. He loves us so much.

"No, I mean, we are fine. It's Jasper—James is here and he is beating him badly!"

Edward's room is further off from the hall, so it's not surprising that he didn't wake up earlier. But now that he knows, he doesn't waste a second.

"Go to your room, Bella. I will see what the matter is." He pulls on his own robe over the pyjamas he is wearing and runs out of the room. I follow him at a distance.

Early morning sunlight is breaking in the hall, giving form to the furniture and other objects there but not much colour. However, there is no difficulty in recognising the two men in front of Edward—James, his features distorted with fury and his arm raised to strike again, and Jasper, crumpled on the floor and whimpering with unmistakable pain. I can't see his face, but I can see that he is cradling his arm close to his body and trying to protect his head at the same time. The way he is lying there, not even protesting the beating he has received, makes me sick to the stomach.

Edward grabs James' wrist before he can strike the broken man at his feet.

"James," he thunders as he twists the cane out of his grasp and throws it away. It clatters loudly as it hits the wall on the opposite side of the large room. "Have you gone mad? Why are you beating my valet? Why are you here in the first place?"

"Your valet, ha!" James snorts like a bull, his tone condescending in the extreme. "Your _valet_ is a thief and a liar. He was trying to sneak out of the house with Anthony's personal effects before you woke up. It is a good thing I reached here at the right time and caught him red-handed. Now call for the constable and hand this rogue over to him."

Jasper mumbles something that is incomprehensible to us.

"Keep your mouth shut, you traitorous snake!" hisses James. He lifts his foot to kick him, but Edward pushes him back. Hard. He barely keeps his balance.

"He is neither a thief nor a liar," he roars, his face red with anger. "Jasper is leaving my service, and since he served Anthony faithfully for years, I gifted him a few of his things. Not that it is any business of yours what goes on in my household. Now explain why you are here, you devil-possessed brute!"

I had never imagined a day when Edward would push James and swear at him. Time has indeed changed him.

"Devil-possessed, am I?" James tone remains as arrogant as before. "I came here because a report reached me that your wife had lost her baby. I wanted to commiserate with you on your loss. As to my business, anything related to my son is my business." His eyes narrow even more, giving him a really mean look. "Did you really give Anthony's clothes to a servant? What possessed you to do that?"

Edward shakes his head. "I don't believe you for a second. There was no such report. And I wasn't going to wear Anthony's clothes, was I? What better use for them but to go to a man who would value them as long as they would last? Don't you know how devoted he was to your son?"

"So devoted that you gave him this ring?" James produces a heavy gold ring from his pocket and shows it to Edward with a sneer.

Edward does not flinch. "I did. It was the least I could do for him."

"You are unbelievably naive, boy. You are showing kindness to a man who committed the deepest sin, but you didn't know that, did you?" With an air of a magician who is going to produce a tiger from his hat, he takes out a small daguerreotype from his other pocket and thrusts it in front of Edward. I cannot see it from where I stand, but I suppose it is one of Anthony. "Look at its back, and tell me why this knave should not be hanged in public?"

Mr Stanley enters the hall from the opposite direction, his clothes clearly put on in some haste and his expression perturbed. I had not seen any of the servants in the hall, but either I had not paid attention or they had remained hidden, unwilling to face the black wrath of our uninvited guest. And one of them must have informed the butler.

"Stanley," says Edward even as he stares at whatever James is pushing in his face, "Jasper needs medical attention. Please send a footman to fetch Carlisle. Quickly. And take him to his room so he can lie down."

His lack of reaction only infuriates James further. He steps forward until they are almost nose to nose and prods Edward in the chest. "You—you knew. You knew about Jasper, didn't you? You and Anthony made a fool of me!" He screeches the last sentence, spittle flying from his mouth. He truly looks like a madman. I gasp in fear.

The sound makes him turn to me. Before Edward can move, James is striding towards me.

"Did _you_ know as well? He snarls, towering over me. "Were you part of the whole charade? Did Anthony even sleep with you? Is Elizabeth his daughter or a bastard?"

At first I stare back at him, clueless as to what he is asking, but the last two questions have my face flaming with embarrassment. Unfortunately, James draws the correct conclusion from that piece of evidence. Even as Edward screams at him to leave me alone, James has his hands around my neck, squeezing hard.

"It is all your fault, you useless woman," he spits as he grinds his teeth. "If you could have kept Anthony in your wretched bed, he would not have strayed. I will kill you!"

"Leave my lady alone!" screams Alice, pulling at his arm, but he merely shrugs her off with a curse. Edward is beating on his other arm and trying to pull it away, but James only squeezes harder. I can't breathe; darkness begins to descend upon me.

There is a crash, and suddenly the hands around my throat are gone, and I can breathe. As I suck in a lungful of air, there is a stabbing pain in the lower part of my abdomen. I clutch my stomach, almost tumbling forward in agony, but Edward catches me before I fall.

"Bella, what's wrong?" His face swims in front of my eyes.

"I—think…the baby…is coming."

* * *

 **A.N.** What do you think was on the back of the picture? And what happened to James?

Of course, for men like James everything is the fault of the woman!

I had the honour of being the pre-reader for Rochelle Allison's _Heavenly Bodies_ , and I loved it. Nobody writes teenage years like she does! It is available on Goodreads, if you would like to pre-order.

 **Fic Recs:** _Atmosphere_ by Christie Hart. It is AU, so I was a little doubtful at first. But once I began to read it, I could not stop. The intensity, the characterization, and the slow-simmer of romance between Edward and Bella. I was floored!

 _There's A Word For It_ by Eiluned Price. Again, I was sceptical, thinking what new could be there in a story where Bella was human and Edward a vampire. But trust me people, it is very, very different and extremely well-written. Try it!


	34. Chapter 34

Thank you so much for your enthusiastic comments! It was interesting to see that though most readers wanted James to die, a creative few found ways of making him suffer for a long time.

* * *

 **Chapter-32**

The next few hours pass in a blur of people coming and going, and pain, also coming and going.

Carlisle arrives sooner than I had imagined was possible. Edward and Alice had helped me to my room and made me lie down, but I could not find a comfortable position. Had it been this bad when Lizzie was born? I can't remember.

My uncle assures me that though it is early, it is not unusual as far as babies are concerned, and he or she will be fine. Meanwhile, Mrs Stanley has sent for Molly, the village midwife, and she joins him in the assurance. They also concur that there is a little time for the babe to come into this world, so Carlisle and Edward leave me to the care of the midwife and the housekeeper, with Alice hovering in the background, ready to do their bidding.

At any rate, I prefer my uncle not to be in the room when the baby is being born. Unless it is an emergency, of course.

Mrs Stanley leaves me now and then to supervise the kitchen and the servants, but always comes back to sit by me. She asks me if I would like my mother to be here, but I tell her that it would be better to inform my parents after things are more settled in the household. I have not forgotten that Jasper is injured and James…Well, I don't know what state he is in, but I hope he is at least unconscious.

Alice skips out for a few minutes and comes back to report that Carlisle is checking up both of them. And James is definitely out cold.

Molly the midwife goes to the kitchen to get a cup of tea, and I take the opportunity to ask Mrs Stanley if she can be trusted to keep the things she hears to herself. The servants must be talking among themselves after witnessing the scene in the hall.

"I wonder what happened to James," I say softly, my throat still feeling the effect of his attack. "Did Edward hit him with something?"

Mrs Stanley looks almost coy, which I would have deemed impossible for her. "It was Mister Stanley. He hit Lord James with a brass candelabra."

My mouth falls open with shock. Mr Stanley, our prim and proper butler, hit James? A servant hitting his lord is almost unheard of, even to protect himself. Look at poor Jasper, all beaten up because he could not stop James attacking him.

She hastens to explain. "He would not have let you go otherwise, my lady. He was bent on strangling you, wasn't he? I think he had lost his mind completely."

"Oh, I don't mind that Mr Stanley hit him," I say quickly. "I am only surprised that he did. I am sure Edward will reward him handsomely for saving my life!"

She protests that a reward is not necessary, as it is their duty to serve us. "Nobody likes Lord James anyway," she adds, an expression of disgust crossing her face. "I cannot tell you, my lady, what a relief it was to have Lord Anthony take over the running of this place from his father. There was no maid whose virtue he did not seek to destroy, nor a man who was not thrashed at his hand one time or other when Lord James was the master here. He even had the gall to proposition my daughter when she was only fifteen!"

For a second I forget my pain as my eyebrows climb up my forehead. "He did not even care that you and your husband were here with her? Did he have no shame?"

She snorts loudly. "Shame! That man does not know the meaning of the word. We guarded our daughters as long as they were here, for none of us trusted him. It was only when they were married and away from here that we could stop worrying."

Molly returns then, with the news that James is still unconscious, and Carlisle has cleaned Jasper's wounds and bandaged them.

"He has tied his middle too, as a couple of his ribs are broken," she continues, and I see Alice wince in sympathy. "It is a wonder none of his bones are broken as well, the way Lord James used that cane on him."

That reminds me of something James had been screeching while thrusting that daguerreotype in Edward's face. Did he mean that Jasper was more to Anthony than his valet?

But that is something I can ask only Edward. And this is not the time for that.

Another wave of pain engulfs me, and I forget everything else but trying to breathe through it. The midwife examines me and pronounces that I might be ready in an hour or two.

Edward comes in to confirm that Jasper has been made comfortable and is sleeping peacefully. He sits with me, looking awkward and helpless as I pant through another bout of cramping and squeeze his hand with both of mine. He apologises for putting me through this suffering, making me smile. Ever since this world has housed man and woman, it is the woman's lot to bear pain so the next generation can come into being. Why should I be any different?

Finally the midwife announces that I am ready to give birth and requests Edward to wait outside. He kisses my forehead and then leaves reluctantly, after confirming from Molly that Carlisle is not needed here.

Thankfully it does not take too long, maybe twenty or thirty minutes. Molly takes care of me while Mrs Stanley cleans the babe using the boiled water that Alice had brought earlier. Alice herself had been dismissed from the room at the last moment as she is an unwedded girl and as such should not witness childbirth.

When she is allowed inside, she brings me a washcloth so I can wipe my face and arms, and brushes my hair and braids it neatly. The prevalent custom among the upper class is to let a maid care for the babe while the mother rests, but I am too impatient. Therefore, as soon as I have changed my clothes and Alice has changed the bedsheet, my baby is handed to me.

Even though the father is supposed to wait for a while before seeing the baby and the mother, I ask Mrs Stanley to allow Edward in, even if for five minutes. I know he must be pacing outside and probably pulling at his hair.

I am proven right as soon as the door is opened. Edward is standing right there, waiting, and when he enters his eyes are flashing and his hair in disarray.

"Lord Edward, please come and meet your son, the Viscount Masen," announces Mrs Stanley with a smile. Yes, we have the heir James had been clamouring for, only he is unable to meet him.

I hope it will remain so.

Edward sits by me and envelopes both of us in his arms, his eyes closed and his expression devout as his lips murmur heartfelt thanks to the heavens. The others leave the room, giving us some time together.

When he opens his eyes they are shining with unshed tears, but he is smiling warmly. Then he kisses both of us and thanks me for bringing more joy into our life. He touches the soft cheek of our son gently with his forefinger.

"He is so beautiful," says Edward, marvelling at the perfection of his tiny features. "Did you see his hair?"

"Mrs Stanley gave him to me swaddled like this," I answer, "but she said it was a dark blond. And he has blue eyes, but so did Lizzie when she was born. They became green only after she was six months old."

Edward nods in understanding. "And everything is all right with him? There is no problem because he came early?"

'No, no problem," I assure him. "Molly said he might sleep a lot, but babies do that anyway. Everything is fine with him."

As if to prove it, our little baby opens his eyes and looks at us. And then he opens his mouth and lets out a lusty cry.

Edward laughs. "He certainly has a good set of lungs on him!"

"I suppose he is hungry," I say, fidgeting a little. "I should, uh, feed him."

Edward gets the hint. "Of course. I will leave you to it then. Are you sure you don't want a wet nurse for the nights? You will get more rest if you don't have to wake up every two hours."

I shake my head. We have discussed this before, and my decision remains unchanged. "I will manage. It is not as if I have much to do otherwise."

This is true. Except for feeding the babe, I can rest as much as I like. I don't have to clean the house, cook food or wash clothes like a peasant. There is some advantage of being rich!

His eyes are soft as he looks at both of us. "I love you, both of you." He kisses me again and then goes out of the room.

Molly goes home, Mrs Stanley sends me a nourishing meal and Alice hovers, ready to help me in any way required. Edward comes back and tells me that messages have been sent to my parents as well as his mother. They will visit us tomorrow.

The rest of the visitors, mostly from our social circle, will be invited to meet the baby at the christening ceremony when he turns a month old. There are a few others, like my aunt and my sister, who may visit us after two weeks. It is better for an infant to have as few people around as possible, especially outsiders.

Edward also tells me that Carlisle has tried everything to bring back James to consciousness, but has been unsuccessful so far. It is possible that he has suffered some internal injury.

Am I wicked to think this is a good thing? I should be praying for his health, but I can't bring myself to do it. After all, he did try to kill me!

"Did you really give that ring to Jasper?" I ask curiously.

Edward looks uncomfortable. "Yes." He clears his throat before proceeding further. "You must have figured out by now that he was the man Anthony loved?"

"I had imagined it would be another nobleman," I confess. "But the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. The picture…"

"Was a gift from Anthony to Jasper," he nods. Then his eyes turns wary. "I didn't tell you earlier because it would have saddened you even more, and Jasper was going to leave anyway. I knew he wouldn't be able to live here when Anthony's memories were scattered everywhere. Are you…angry with him?"

I sigh heavily. "I should be, but I am not. In a way, Anthony was never mine; he loved Jasper but was too scared to do anything about it. If anything, I feel pity for Jasper. I suffered for years but I have you now, and the rest of our life together. He has nothing but memories, probably very bitter ones."

It's true. If I had known about Jasper while Anthony was alive, I would have hated him, hated both of them. But now I don't want to waste a single moment in either hate or regret. What is done is done, however wrong it was. Right now, I want to live only in the present.

"Have you spoken with the servants about James?"

He sighs. "Yes, they are ready to swear on their life that they know nothing of what happened in the hall. I am not sure what I will tell James when he wakes up. Maybe that I was the one who hit him because he assaulted you. He can't blame me for trying to protect you, can he?"

"Do you think he will tell people about Anthony, and what he did?" This is what scares me. The scandal will destroy our family.

Edward says he doubts that, but I think he is worried nevertheless. This is something that will be decided only after James regains consciousness.

Thankfully, he never does. The next morning, I wake up to a relieved Edward informing me that James passed away during the night.

News will be sent to our friends and acquaintances that he was ill when he arrived at the estate, and lost consciousness soon after. It must have been some kind of infection that he picked up during his hasty travel to the estate. Carlisle even finds some fancy-sounding name that seems to fit the symptoms James was showing last morning!

Mr and Mrs Stanley will have a talk with the servants so that they concur with the story that Edward and Carlisle have concocted. If any of the guests ask, they will be told that James arrived here with a high fever and spouting nonsense. Even blood-letting didn't help.

Elizabeth comes to see me before my mother does. When she comes to know that James is dead, she actually smiles. But when Edward tells her how he had attacked me, she turns pale with anger. If James wasn't already dead, I believe she would have gone and murdered him right then!

We can't tell her the whole truth, therefore we stick to James having lost his mind or being possessed by some wicked spirit. It is probably not far from the truth.

When my parents arrive, we ask Maggie to bring Lizzie as well. She is wide-eyed with wonder that the baby is here, but a little disappointed that he doesn't talk or play with her. Still, she is determined to be the best big sister and teach him everything she knows, including brushing his teeth properly.

"You will have to wait a bit for that, sweetheart," says my mother as she strokes Lizzie's soft hair. "He doesn't have any teeth yet."

This worries my daughter a lot. "How is he going to eat anything then?" she asks.

"He will drink milk until he grows teeth," I answer.

"But then, how will he grow up?" she asks, sincerely concerned. "Miss Maggie tells me that eating my vegetables will make me strong and big. Will the baby remain the same size until he grows teeth and eats vegetables?"

We smile but try not to laugh at her statement. Maggie explains to her that infants get all their nutrition in milk, but once they grow a bit, they need other food just like Lizzie does. This satisfies her for now. I have no doubt that she will have new questions every day regarding her brother.

James is given a grand funeral, with the whole village attending. I can't imagine anyone is sad over his death though. He lived a life where he and only he was important, and had no sympathy for anyone else. In fact, if anybody remembers him, it will be for his cruelty and his dictator-like ways.

 _As you sow, so shall you reap._

* * *

 **A.N.** : Do you think James had an easy death? I could have dragged it, but as long as he was alive, the Masen household would have been on pins and needles.

I did not mention Charlie in Bella's room because he wasn't expected to be there, being a man. He will meet the baby later on, at the christening ceremony.

There are some threads to be tied yet, but that will happen in the epilogue. And if there is anything you would like to read as an outtake, either past or future, please let me know. Perhaps an EPOV of a certain incident or chapter?

 **Important Reminder:** If you have not read the entries for P.S. I Love You fanfiction contest, please take some time and visit the page. There is a lot of variety there in how these three words can be said! Voting begins on the 4th.


	35. Chapter 35

It seems as if I had just began to write this story the other day, and yet here we are at the end. As always, it gives me mixed feelings.

Once again, please accept my heartfelt thanks for sharing this journey. I am grateful to everybody who has read this tale, whether or not you have reviewed it. It means so much to me!

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Twelve Years Later

"Edward, it is time to get up."

"Um-hmm."

" _Edward, it's morning!"_

"I know," he returns lazily, his hand capturing and squeezing my breast. "That is why I am trying to wish you Good Morning." And he thrusts his hips into mine to prove his point.

"We will be late for breakfast," I protest weakly, even as my body responds in all the right ways. His warm skin against mine, his kisses on my neck, his fingers in that special place…all of it makes me helpless. I raise my leg as he enters me, completes me.

Who was the fool that said women are not supposed to get any enjoyment from the sexual act? And why do women continue to believe it?

Twelve years of married life, and yet the pleasure that my husband brings to me in our bed has not waned. I speak generally of course, for we have made love in other places too. The sturdy chesterfield with its rich wine-red leather upholstery in Edward's bedroom is a favourite of ours, and so is the dresser with the mirror in mine. Sometimes he sneaks in my room in the afternoon when he has a few minutes free in between appointments. We do it very quickly then, knowing well that his valet will be knocking at the door any minute.

Yes, Edward has a valet now. He had made no effort to find one after Jasper left, saying that he could dress himself without one well enough. Then one day he found a child lying unconscious in a ditch by the road while travelling to another town on business. He postponed the meeting and brought the child home instead.

Carlisle was called, and he discovered multiple bruises and broken ribs, and tended to him carefully. For some reason Edward couldn't tear himself away from the little fellow. Perhaps something about his broken body resonated within himself. When his fever broke and consciousness returned, we found that he didn't remember anything about himself or his parents, except a vague recollection of a castle. After asking around in nearby villages and towns and waiting for months for someone to come forward and claim him, we decided to keep him with us. The only other option was to send him to a workhouse, and none of us had the heart to do that.

He said his name was perhaps Jake, he wasn't sure, but that's what everybody calls him now. Judging by his physique and speech, we thought he was maybe a year or two older to Lizzie. She was delighted to have a playmate, and soon they were as thick as thieves.

Even though we treated him like one of ours, he surprised us by announcing that he wished to act as Edward's valet. This happened almost two years after Edward had found him, which made Jake around twelve. He began assisting my husband in small ways, but he was a quick study and has graduated to managing the accounts for the estate over the years.

I suppose he is an assistant rather than just a valet. However, he still looks up to Edward and insists that he likes the title of valet, so we let it be.

We are only a little late for breakfast. Lizzie and Jake are there, laughing over something only they know. Our eldest son, Edward William Masen, is eating his toast and eggs with a far-off expression on his beautiful face. Elizabeth swears that he is a carbon copy of his father at that age. He is quite a philosopher though, inclined to reading a lot and thinking deep thoughts. He will definitely go to Oxford for higher studies.

Then there are nine year old Sarah and six year old Robert, playful and energetic and a mix of Edward and me as far as their facial features and hair are concerned. They are arguing over the deliciousness of Apple Snowballs versus Spotted Dick Pudding, while Mrs Stanley smiles and assures them that both the items will be prepared for dinner. Those two have her wrapped around their little finger!

Yes, all the children have breakfast with us now, and dinner as well. In case we have guests and dinner is served later than usual, the younger three eat early while Lizzie joins us, having turned eighteen a few months ago.

I have been asking Edward to introduce her to the London society and have a season, but he thinks she is too young to get married. "I have not spent enough time with her," he confessed when I prodded him for the real reason.

I think, no, I know that he feels guilty over not being able to disclose to her the truth of being her real father. He considered it very seriously when Lizzie turned sixteen, but I convinced him that some secrets are better as secrets. There is no way we can tell her everything, and a half-truth will do more harm than a complete lie. Let her be happy remembering Anthony as her father before Edward took his place. It has not lessened her affection for Edward in any way.

I am not worried that she will learn the truth from someone else. Though some of the servants witnessed James beating Jasper and Mr Stanley hitting him on the head, they did not know the reason of it all, assuming that James had actually lost his mind. His cruelty towards them over the years made it seem quite plausible in their opinion. Only Carlisle and the Stanleys know the whole truth, and they will take it to the grave with them.

Why James was at our house on that particular morning remains a mystery. It is possible that Carlisle's frequent visits might have given rise to speculation of there being something wrong with the baby, but even then James could have simply written to Edward instead of rushing here. Our best guess is that he wanted to lord over the household again and probably give us instructions on how to raise the baby (especially a boy) in the correct manner. Unfortunately, Jasper chose the same time to leave the house as James arrived, who immediately assumed that something was fishy and searched Jasper's bags.

When I asked Alice later on, she admitted that she had her suspicions regarding Jasper but was not sure as she had no proof. Just because he didn't reciprocate her feelings didn't mean that he wasn't attracted to women in general. And of course she couldn't imagine a lord being in love with his valet.

Alice was understandably shaken by the whole incident, but she finally gathered herself and found a good man to marry. He is a carpenter by profession and well-known for the chairs, tables and beds he makes, simple and sturdy. They are happy together and have two sweet children. I am very fond of the little poppets.

Even though she doesn't need to be a lady's maid, Alice still comes for a few hours every day to assist me in any way required. My children are as fond of her as they are of their Aunt Angela and Uncle Mike.

To return to the topic at hand, the guilt Edward harbours has also resulted in his being unable to say 'no' to Lizzie. Not that she is spoilt or selfish; on the contrary, she has the same sunny disposition and generous heart she had as a child. But sometimes a parent has to refuse a child something because it might harm her or it is just not possible. Every time this responsibility has fallen on me, making me the more strict parent. Well, someone has to do it.

For example, we had travelled to Italy when Lizzie was nine. She liked Rome so much that she asked us to live there. It was so much sunnier, you see, and the monuments were fascinating. I was the one who had to break her heart by informing her that visiting a place implied returning to our home sooner or later. Edward simply could not bring himself to disillusion her and see her tears.

I have a feeling that it is going to change soon. Edward may not have noticed how close Lizzy is to Jake, but I have. Also, it is not a coincidence that Lizzy has not shown an interest in having a season in London. Any other girl in her place would have been demanding it by now!

How do I feel about it? Honestly, I don't know. Even though we know nothing about Jake's parents, we can see that he must have belonged to a good family. There is something about him…his speech, his inherent good manners, and a…chivalry, I suppose I must call it. Many times I have seen him reach out to help others and expect nothing in return, and he is always respectful towards women, be they nobility or commoners.

Still, society demands that the parentage of a person be known before it will cede him the regard he deserves. Edward is different from most of the lords I have met over the years, but will he agree to a union between his daughter and a boy who remembers nothing of his past? Only time will tell.

Until then, I am perfectly content with life as it is and thankful to be surrounded by my loved ones, be they family or friends. The past, with all its pain and confusion, is exactly that—the past. I do not think of it often.

* * *

 **A.N.** : Most of you said they would be happy with any outtakes I choose to post, but there were a couple of specific requests too. First, an EPOV of the time when Edward was pretending to be Anthony and visiting Bella during the nights, and second, when he got the news of Anthony's death and that he was to come back and marry Bella. Also, meeting her after his return, the early days of their marriage and his feelings at being able to see Lizzie. So I guess there will be at least three outtakes, maybe more if I feel like resolving the mystery of Jake. Though that could be a separate story in itself!

Now, here is a new contest, titled Beyond The Bedroom: A Twilight fanfic Contest. As you can guess, it's about lemons, but not any lemons! We want (yeah, I am a validator) originality, creativity, something unusual-the place, the situation, the position. Humor, awkwardness, anything different. Please visit the page for full details. Here is the link: u/8423884/Beyond-The-Bedroom

I look forward to some entries from you people. Come on, give it a try!


	36. Chapter 36

Thank you for your lovely and kind words! Sharing this story with you have been a beautiful experience.

* * *

 **Outtake-1**

 **Edward receives James' letter**

 _Dear Edward,_

 _I am writing this letter to you to inform you of the sad demise of my son and your cousin Anthony James Masen. He had been unwell for some time, and passed away in his sleep last night. In the light of this event, it is you duty to return to England and take Anthony's place, both as the master of the estate and the new husband to Lady Isabella._

 _It is my directive that you do so with all haste possible and establish yourself as Lord Masen so that the estate continues to prosper as it had under Anthony's care. I have had enough of your gallivanting around the continent and wasting your time. You will come home now and attend to your affairs under my supervision._

 _Regards,_

 _Your uncle,_

 _Lord James Masen._

Grief. Disbelief. Rage.

All three feelings battle in my heart as I read the brief, almost curt missive from James. I was aware that Anthony had been unwell. Both my mother and Mrs Stanley had written to me with concern, but they had been hopeful of his recovery. My mother had mentioned in her last letter that a renowned physician from London was staying at the estate and trying some new medicines on Anthony, and Anthony was responding well to the treatment. Then how did he deteriorate so suddenly?

Images from our childhood and adolescent years rush through my mind like leaves blown by a strong wind. Anthony had been there ever since I could remember, playing with me, teaching me things and being the perfect elder brother. As a toddler, I did believe him to be my brother. It was only when I was five or so that I came to know he was my cousin.

Not that it made any difference to our friendship. Anthony had lost his mother very early, and James was frequently away. My home was more of a home to him than his own. Now that I think about it, my parents were the only parents he had known.

For James was never much of a father to Anthony, even when he was at the estate. All he was concerned with was that his son speak and behave properly, especially in the presence of guests. Any breach of etiquette was punished with a paddle, replaced by a cane or belt over the years. Depriving him of a meal or making him clean out the stable was relatively harmless. It was no surprise that Anthony began to shake if James as much as raised a brow at him.

Both of us had lessons at the manor, with the tutors reporting our progress to James on weekly basis. He had instructed them to inflict corporeal punishment on us if we didn't do well at studies, but thankfully our tutors were kinder and we got away with a scolding.

As we grew up, our bond only became stronger. As long as my father was alive, James didn't raise his hand on me, but as soon as he passed away he began to treat me the same way he treated Anthony. My mother's objections were brushed away as a weak woman's whining. He told her that he was going to make us into real men, not delicate flowers that would wither in the wind. According to him, my parents had already mollycoddled us enough.

At least going away to Oxford saved Anthony's hide from James. And when he returned and was given the estate to manage, James spent most of the year at his other estate, returning only now and then to check the records and the progress Anthony had made. To some extent, he treated Anthony like a man and not like a boy. But I knew that Anthony never lost the fear James stirred in him.

For me it had always been different. I had had a father for some years of my life, a father who loved me and was unfailingly kind to me and everyone else. I knew what James was doing was completely wrong, as opposed to Anthony who remained conflicted even as a man. I could not stop James from beating me, but I never cowered in front of him.

When he ordered me to look after the horses instead of dreaming of college, I accepted the decision without bitterness. I knew I was never going to be rich, but I loved horses anyway, and spending time with them and being paid for it didn't seem to me a bad way of living my life. Honestly, I had not given much thought to the future, content to live one day at a time. That is, until I saw Bella in the village.

If there is a moment that changes one's life, that was it for me.

I fell for her hard. I wanted to spend my whole life with her, wanted to give the world to her.

And I knew none of it was possible. I had nothing to give to her; the Masen name alone wasn't good enough for a proposal. I would have to find a way to earn more, have a position in the society so that I could approach her father and ask for her hand.

While I was frantically thinking of such ways, most of them quite impractical, Anthony saw Bella at her aunt's Ball. James had been after him to get married and produce an heir for the past two years, taking him to various events and dances so that he could choose one of the girls there. Somehow Anthony had managed to fend him off, pointing out this or that imaginary fault in the girl or her family. But he knew it wouldn't work for ever. He had to choose a wife soon.

I sigh, thinking of the mess we had managed to create while executing Anthony's harebrained scheme. Worst of all, we had tangled Bella in a web of lies and deceit where she was the only innocent one, yet she suffered the most. Mrs Stanley's letters to me gently hinted that Bella was living only a half-life. Her daughter was the only bright spot in her otherwise dark and lonely life.

Lizzie, my daughter. Whenever I thought of her, I felt as if my heart was being squeezed by a giant fist. I had never even set my eyes on her, yet she was precious to me, a part of me combined with a part of Bella. For years I had waited for Anthony to fulfil his promise and unite me with my love and my daughter, until I had almost given up.

And still I had hoped for a miracle. I had just not expected it to be in the form of Anthony's death.

Tears sting my eyes and I let them flow. I cry for the needless loss of my brother's life, for the loneliness all three of us have gone through because of fear and guilt on Anthony's part and plain stupidity on mine. And I cry for the years I have missed from my daughter's life.

Finally my tears stop. I splash some water on my face and dry it slowly, thinking ahead. Though I grieve for Anthony, there is a measure of relief as well. It has happened. No longer I have to wonder whether or not I will see Bella again, touch her, kiss her, love her. I can go home, and Bella will be mine. I will be a husband to her and a father to Lizzie. We will have a life together.

The tone of James' letter angers me, but it also makes me laugh. He thinks I am still that boy he can control with a harsh word or a whip. Perhaps he imagines me grateful and subdued because he is offering me the family title and estate. He must assume that I will bow to his every whim and let him _supervise,_ just as he did with Anthony. If it is so, he is going to get a shock.

I know James and how his mind works. He might dislike me, but he will still prefer that the title goes to me rather than some distant cousin he has never met. For now I will let him think he can dictate me to some extent, but once I have his sign on the required documents, I will show him that I have a will and a mind of my own. No longer will he bully me, nor will I allow him to order Bella around as he must be doing right now.

In fact, it is my future relationship with Bella that worries me more than dealing with James and his high-handedness. Clearly, she is not going to welcome me with open arms. And God forbid, should she ever come to know the whole truth, she will probably hate both me and Anthony equally. And yet I must tell her everything sooner or later. How can we have an honest relationship if this serpent sits between us, coiled and ready to strike?

And what about my symbiotic relationship with the widow? How am I going to explain that to her?

Well, I can't decide everything today. Right now the most important thing to be done is to make arrangements for my departure. It will take all my time and energy to sell my business and my house profitably, and as quickly as possible. After I settle my affairs, I will take leave of all my friends and acquaintances. I must also arrange for some of my horses to travel to England. They are very well-trained, and I want to start the same business there, even expand it after a while.

I had arrived in France with the express purpose of making money, but the years spent here have given me much more. They have seen me depressed and they have seen me hopeful. They have seen me alone as well as being social and making friends. Even though I was more or less banished to this country, my time here has not been a loss.

However, now I have a chance to live the life I had been craving for, with Bella. Now I have my true purpose in front of me.

I will not fail Bella this time.

* * *

 **A.N.** : So that was Edward just after receiving the news of Anthony's death. Next outtake will be another EPOV, dealing with the days (and nights) after Anthony's wedding to Bella.

I have got another brilliant request for an outtake, this one Jasper's POV regarding Anthony. Different, eh?

And of course everyone wants to know more about Jake and his family, and what will happen to him next. The thing is, my mind has spun a whole story that can't be covered in an outtake. I don't want to write a sequel because I would prefer it to be an Edward-Bella story rather than a Jake-Lizzie one. Maybe not immediately after this, but soon. What do you think?

Have you started writing for Beyond The Bedroom Contest yet? The word limit starts from 3,000, so you can make it quite short. Think of something you have experienced, read or heard from someone and convert it into a lemon that is different from the usual ones. I am counting on you people to have lots of entries!


	37. Chapter 37

Sorry it took longer than planned to post this chapter. My daughter is home for the holidays and I want to spend as much time as possible with her.

* * *

 **Outtake-2**

 **Mine, but not Mine**

Today Bella was wedded to Anthony.

Since I had seen her in the village, I had pictured her wedding day many a times. The only difference was that in my dreams, _I_ had been the groom.

Before I could do anything to turn my dream into reality, however, Anthony came to me with this utterly absurd idea. He wanted to marry Bella, fulfill his duty of providing the Masen name an heir and a spare, and live peacefully.

"She is intelligent, beautiful and graceful, that makes her perfect for the position of Lady Masen," he babbled enthusiastically. I stared at him in disbelief as he carried on while pacing the floor of his room where he had called me for an urgent meeting. Jasper guarded the door so that nobody could surprise us.

"Also, she is a farmer's daughter, not some spoilt girl from a noble family. She won't bother me with too many questions or make too many demands upon my time. For her, doing her duty will be paramount. In turn, I will provide her with a most comfortable life, much more than she could have had were she married to a doctor or another farmer or a school teacher. She will lack for nothing, be it fine clothes or jewels, horses or carriages. We will be happy together."

Questions and doubts crossed my mind like the wind across a field, but looking at Anthony's face shining with happiness and his hands gesturing excitedly, I could not voice them. To be honest, I had not seen him this animated in months. Ever since James had summoned him to his chamber and more or less ordered him to choose a wife for himself, Anthony had been on tenterhooks. As the time passed and the list of excuses grew shorter, he had turned morose, not talking much and hardly ever smiling. I could not brush aside his plan with my rude words, not without thinking over it.

Still, I could not help voicing my greatest doubt to him.

"Do you think Bella will be happy with this arrangement?" I asked, and he stopped in front of me. "What is she wants you in her bed frequently, or even after the birth of the children?"

Anthony waved his hand impatiently. "Why would she want that? No woman wants her husband to visit her more than necessary; _she_ doesn't receive any pleasure from the conjugal act. That is why noblemen have mistresses, you know? They are paid to please their patrons. A wife already has everything she wants, so she can afford to live on her own terms. Bella will be quite content with the companionship I will give her, and with the love of the children."

"And you are quite sure that you will be able to give her children?"

"Why not?" shrugged my cousin. "It is true that I do not want women as men usually do, but this much I _can_ do. I like her as a person. She is kind and cheerful. Aggressive women make me nervous, but Bella is not like that, so it should be all right." He read my doubtful expression and smiled, clapping his hands together. "Trust me Edward, this will turn out to be good for both of us."

What more could I say? If I confessed that I was attracted to Bella and wanted to marry her, Anthony would bow out gracefully. However, it would not solve my problem. He loved me, but he could not bestow on me a title or the wealth that went with it, not to mention social acceptance. And how could I persuade him otherwise, knowing it would deprive Bella of the chance of enjoying the lifestyle of the rich and the noble.

And so I said nothing, and even helped Anthony by pretending to be him when he was supposed to meet Bella in the sun room. He convinced me that it was a momentary weakness and everything would be fine after the wedding.

And that brings us to this day, the day of their wedding.

The wedding is well organised and well-attended, and the celebrations continue late into the evening. Anthony may not have very close friends, but he does have friends; it is a necessity of being a lord to develop good connections. And they are a merry lot, especially as the evening wears down and the excellent wine and other drinks continues to flow.

I listen and smiled as Anthony takes their teasing about his wedding night with the utmost good humour. However, it becomes more and more difficult for me to keep on smiling as the jokes grow more and more ribald. When one of the guests drunkenly begins mimicking the act that Anthony is to perform in bed, thrusting his hips in an obscene motion, I make my excuses and escape to Anthony's room.

I would have preferred to go back to my home, but Anthony had made me promise that I would remain in the mansion until all the guests had left. And so I sit in his room with an equally morose Jasper, a bottle of wine open between us, and proceed to torture myself with images of Anthony making love to Bella.

I hear the revellers push Anthony into Bella's room and yell encouragements at him to water her bower well with his spigot. I hear the door slam shut and bang my head repeatedly on the table. The almost empty bottle wobbles, but Jasper catches it before it can fall.

He mutters something about Anthony being too dense, but I cannot imagine what he means. My head seems to grow heavy, and my eyes close.

Some time later I wake up to the sound of the door shutting quietly and of footsteps muffled by the carpet. I raise my head and blink like an owl in the dim light of the fire.

"Anthony?"

He falls on his bed. "Yes."

I scratch my head. The wine has made my brain slow, but I seem to remember that he should be elsewhere. And then it comes in a flash—it is his wedding night. He should be with Bella, in her bed.

"What are you doing here?"

He groans heavily. "James wanted to give some parting instructions to me, so I had gone to see him."

His words make no sense to me. "But why are you here _now_?"

This time he sighs. "I can't do it, Edward. I thought I could, but even though I was drunk and courageous, I could not bring myself to disrobe in front of Bella. The very thought of exposing my body to her made my cock shrivel up with fear. I just talked to her for a while, and then Jasper came with James' message."

Even though I feel sad for him, there is a small part of me that is rejoicing at the news. Bella is still untouched. My brother has not succeeded in taking her virginity.

But he has to do it, another night. He must.

"Well, maybe you will feel better tomorrow night." I look at the silhouette on the bed and try to encourage him.

He shakes his head. "Edward, I had not imagined it would be this scary. I like Bella, I can have a conversation with her, but no more. Please try to understand. I cannot be her husband in bed."

"You should have thought of this before marrying her." My voice sounds cold even to me. "If you do not give her a child, people will blame her for being infertile. And James will force you to send her back to her father's house and take another wife. Either way, her life will be ruined." The effect of the wine is becoming less, and I am getting angry. "How could you be so stupid as to think you could do this?"

Again that small, selfish part whispers in my ear that this is not a bad thing. If Bella is sent back to her father's house, he will probably not hesitate in accepting my proposal.

The rest of me scolds the selfish part that is rejoicing in others' misery. How low can I fall? How can I wish pain on the two people I love? I should be ashamed!

His groan is a frustrated one. "Do you think I have not been berating myself for this for hours? Yes, I should have realised that my plan was a foolish one, but I didn't. Obviously. It's not as if I _wanted_ to make Bella's life wretched, you know? But what can be done now? If I get the marriage annulled so that no blame rests on her, I will have to tell the truth to people, and I cannot do that. Maybe I should just leave England and go somewhere far away where nobody knows me? But how will that help Bella? Oh heavens, what have I done?"

His words subside into drunken mumblings as his eyes close. I look around for Jasper, but he must have retired into his own room, for he is nowhere to be seen. I sigh as I take off Anthony's shoes and remove his waistcoat and collar, which is so lopsided and wrinkled that it is a wonder it hasn't strangled him. Jasper is probably keeping his distance from Anthony; he can't be any happier with this wedding than I am. But of course he knows that he can't have an open relationship with his master. Poor man!

My neck has developed a crick from the odd position I had gone to sleep in, so I rotate my head a bit to get rid of the stiffness and then lie on the other side of the bed. What have we got ourselves into?

-X-X-X-

In the morning the guests begin to depart, and I help Anthony see them off. Bella, shy but willing to do her part, says goodbye to various lords and ladies she is presented to and then immediately begins to get acquainted with the household accounts. Anthony talks with her easily, and it seems to me that he is more confident now, now that the crowd has left us. Perhaps tonight he will try again to be close to Bella, and succeed.

I am not sure if I am more relieved with the prospect, or more regretful. But in the end it does not matter, for Anthony refuses to leave his room when the time comes. When I suggest to him that he comes clean to James, he turns pale and his brow becomes dewy with sweat. With cold hands he clutches mine and begs me not to disclose his secret to James or anyone else.

"Edward, I will not be able to bear the shame. People will look at me as if I have a dreaded disease. Please, have pity on your brother!"

I rub my face roughly. "But what about Isabella, Brother? She must be waiting for you. What can you say to her that won't break her heart?"

He bows his head and mutters something. I ask him to repeat himself, for I understood not one word.

"You can save me, Edward," he pleads, squeezing my hands hard. "You can make everything all right, if only you say yes."

I frown. "Yes to what, Anthony? What do you want me to do?"

His eyes are desperate. "Go to her in my stead, be to her what I should be. It is the only way."

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"What?" I croak, my mouth dry and my thoughts a-whirl. Does he really mean what I think he means?

He stares back at me with complete sincerity, his expression pleading.

When he had revealed to me his plan to marry Bella, I had remained quiet. This time, I explode with rage.

"Have you lost your mind, Anthony?" I do not raise my voice much, aware of ears everywhere and also because I don't want Bella to hear me yelling. But I know my face is red with anger because it feels hot. I fist my hands, aware that I want to punch Anthony in the face. "She is _your_ wife— _yours!_ How can you even think of sending me to her? You will be breaking every one of your vows you took yesterday. It would be the worst kind of betrayal of her trust in you!"

Tears appear in his eyes as he clutches at my shirt like a lifeline. "Those vows are meaningless already, Edward. I can be a companion to her, but not a husband. As for betraying her trust, what other option is there? You pointed out last night that her life is ruined in any case. If you take my place, she will have a somewhat normal life, and the child will still be a Masen. The truth will destroy us, Edward, but a lie can save us. Please do this for me. I will be indebted to you for life."

I rant and argue, but he persists, finally saying that he would kill himself rather than face James and the world with the truth. I can see that he is desperate enough to do it, and agree to his proposal with a heavy heart. I cannot have his death on my conscience.

Also, if I am completely honest, I must admit that the tiny, selfish part of me is happy and excited to have Bella in any way. I am aware that deceit never fares well, but I decide not to think of the future and take what I can get in the present.

Both Anthony and I will serve our time in Hell for this, this I am sure of.

-X-X-X-

After talking a little more with Anthony and promising him that I will be discreet, I proceed to Bella's bedroom.

I am shaking with nervous excitement when I enter the darkened room. It is late, and she is asleep, the soft sound of her breath calming me to some extent as I stand by her bed. What do I do now? I must wake her up, but I cannot talk much in case she suspects something. Anthony and I have similar height and build, and our voices are not too different. Still, I must be careful and speak only when necessary, and that only in whispers.

I sit beside Bella and stroke her hair, longing to untie her thick braids. As I run my fingers through it, she moves a little and then lifts her hand and touches mine. She is awake.

"Bella," I say as softly as possible, "please forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

"My lord," she breathes, "there is no need to apologise. I understand that you have much to do. Running this estate well must keep you very busy."

"Still, I will try not to be so late in the future."

She assures me once again that she does not mind, and an awkward silence follows. Both of us know what is expected of us, but none of us knows how to proceed.

Finally I ask her if she is ready, my throat parched and my heart hammering. I wish I had some experience in this matter. I have kissed a girl or two, and felt the softness of their breasts, but nothing more. I want to please Bella, but I have no idea how to do it.

She nods shyly and lifts a corner of the duvet in silent invitation. Gathering my courage in both hands, I accept the invitation and slip under the covers. My arms go around her instinctively and my lips find hers, though I keep our kisses chaste for fear she might be disgusted if I do anything more.

My hands wander a bit and mould themselves around her cloth-covered breasts, and her breath hitches. My own comes faster as I push a leg between hers and pull her closer. She is soft and warm in my arms, and I don't want to let her go. Ever. However, I am also aware that I must not spend too many hours in her bed. The less of an attachment I form with her, the better it will be for both of us.

Soon I want her to be even closer, preferably without any clothes between us. But it would shock her if I am to suggest such a thing; she is from a genteel family after all, not a strumpet. I must treat her as a lady should be treated.

Her nightgown has risen to her knees, and I run my foot along her calf. Slowly, as if under a spell (which is probably the case), I lift the hem of the gown until it ascends her hips. I fumble a bit with my pyjamas, but finally succeed in unknotting the drawstring and pushing them down. When my newly bare legs find Bella's and my cock settles between her thighs, the sensations that run across my whole body nearly make me peak. I remind myself that I am not here for my pleasure but to achieve a goal. However, my body doesn't want to listen. I feel feverish with impatience.

Bella is probably more anxious than I am, but she doesn't show it by word or gesture. Though when I think about it later, I wonder where her hands were—probably clutching the bed sheet or a pillow.

I do know that a woman is supposed to be wet to facilitate the entry of a man's member, so I check for it. Bella gasps, and I thrust forward some. The sensation of being surrounded by her softness and warmth is incredible. I ask her if she is all right before applying more pressure. Somewhere I feel a slight resistance, but before I can think about it, it's gone and I am completely inside her.

If I was in heaven, I could not have felt any better.

Unfortunately, my moment of bliss is too short. Almost as soon as I begin to move inside her, I peak, and it is over. If I was her husband I would have said that the marriage has been consummated, but since I am not…In any case, she is a maiden no longer.

I know I should leave her so that her maid can look after her, but I want to delve in this paradise longer than allowed. I lie on my side with my arms around her and try to comfort her without saying anything. Gradually she relaxes and her breath becomes less uneven. I kiss her temple and stroke her hair.

If only I could remain with her the whole night! But Bella will be uncomfortable then, even though she might not object to my presence. Also, it would be a great risk. With an unwilling heart, I press my lips to her cheek and bid her a soft goodnight. She sits up, clutching the duvet to her chest, and answers me sweetly.

My feet drag as I move in the corridor towards Anthony's room, and I turn back and look at her door more than once. This new intimacy between us is going to make everything doubly difficult.

How am I going to stay away from her during the days? How am I going to pretend that she is nothing to me but my cousin's wife?

* * *

 **A.N.** : So that's how Edward took Anthony's place in Bella's life after the wedding. Next will be Jasper's POV regarding Anthony.

Thank you for the time and support you have given to this story. Would you like to read another historical piece next, or a modern one?

Beyond The Bedroom Contest already has some entries. Do check them out. Better still, write one yourself!

Have a great year, full of happiness and love. Happy New year!


	38. Chapter 38

I intended to post this outtake sooner, but time just flew away while my daughter was here!

Thank you for your wonderful responses to my question in the last update. It seems most of you would prefer a historical fic again, though you have sweetly assured me that a modern one would be good too.

You will be happy to know that TwiFanfictionRecs has nominated this story in their Top Ten list. Two weeks have already gone, but there are still two left. Please take a minute every day to vote for this story. There are some really good ones in the list, so every vote counts!

* * *

 **Outtake-3**

 **Jasper**

Everything hurts; my body, my heart and my soul.

Carlisle has done what he could to patch me up and make me comfortable, but there is no rest for me, not really.

I am not even surprised that this happened. In a way, I had been waiting for this day for years with a combined feeling of dread and anticipation. Everybody who has ever kept a secret will understand what I mean. Of course, I had imagined James discovering this secret while Anthony was still alive. In my dreams, he would march in raging and screaming, and shoot both my master and me.

In my nightmares, he would shoot Anthony but leave me alive. Then, while I would cry at his son's side, he would sneer and laugh at me, taunting me for daring to fall in love with a man who was so much superior to me in every manner.

As it happened, he didn't need to do any of that. Anthony died on his own, weighed down by guilt because he believed that he destroyed three lives—mine, his brother's and his wife's.

Time and again I assured him that it was not so, that we were capable of breaking whatever cage he imagined he had put around us and creating a new life for ourselves. We chose not to do so, but that was our decision.

Perhaps for Lady Isabella it was more difficult than it was for Lord Edward or me. She was a woman, and married into a noble family. Both factors contributed to her boundaries being extremely rigid. Still, if she had wanted she could have run away to Lord Edward, or even persuaded Anthony to send her to him. She must have known that he would give in if she persisted long enough. But she chose to suffer, much as he did.

Lord Edward could have taken his lady away once he was established in business, but he too waited for my master to do something. What did he think Anthony would do? It was not as if he could divorce his wife; that would have been a bigger scandal than her running away with her lover. Why should he lose face in society because Lord Edward did not have the guts to follow his heart?

If you ask me, the nobility makes too much of their rules about what to do and how to do it. But for that, all of us could have been happy with the people we loved.

As for me, I could not imagine being away from my Anthony under any circumstances. He gave my life some meaning; made it worth living. Had I been a servant to any other master, I doubt that I would have witnessed even a glimmer of the happiness I felt in Anthony's presence. Even if that man would not have been cruel like Lord James, I would have been only a servant to him—someone to tend to his needs and look after his clothes.

Of course, I would not have known such pain and grief either, but I alone am responsible for them.

I was sent to Masen Hall at the age of twelve, to make of my life what was possible. My father was a serf, but he believed I would be better off working inside a manor than on the land, perhaps because I a sickly child. I began as a pageboy, but was soon assigned the duty of looking after Lord Anthony. Mr Stanley taught me everything required to be a valet to a young lord, and I did my tasks willingly.

Anthony was a gentle soul, and the exact opposite of his father who was a cruel man in every respect. He spared no one on the estate, be they men, maids or children. Both Lord Anthony and Lord Edward suffered at his hands, but it affected Anthony more, perhaps because it was his father who punished and beat him at his littlest mistake instead of protecting him. Also, he had lost his mother at an early age. Even though his aunt was very kind and affectionate, it could not fill the emptiness in his life.

When I was fourteen and Anthony sixteen, he began to open his heart to me. Soon we became more friends than master and servant. But it was only after I went with him to Oxford that the bond of lovers formed between us.

Being away from his father suited Anthony. He was happier and healthier than he was at the estate. He made a few friends. And when he discussed his day with me, his eyes shone with enthusiasm. He wanted to make his father proud of him, and be a landlord his tenants would look up to. He missed his brother, but was determined to make good use of his time at the college.

However, he had his moods. He would be quiet then, staring at nothing in particular. At such times, I did my best to cheer him up and make him smile. He had a beautiful smile. How could it not be, when his face was that of an angel?

When I told him so, he looked sadder and remarked that he was closer to devil than any angel. I was aghast. Why would my kind and gentle master liken himself to the devil?

"It is because I have these unnatural desires," he murmured when I asked. "You will hate me, Jasper, if I told you what I am inside."

I protested that I could never hate him. "I wish to see you happy, my lord. Seeing you like this makes me feel as if I am failing in my duty."

He told me then, how he was attracted to men rather than women, how he was attracted to _me_ , a lowly servant. He was aware society frowned upon such relations, but he was helpless.

I did not understand him completely, but I understood that I was special to him. I assured him that I loved him and was ready to please him in any manner possible.

The physical part was…strange, at first. But Anthony never pushed me, and slowly I became comfortable with him. We had to be careful when we were at Masen Manor during the holidays, but Anthony made the stay as short as possible, returning to the college on some or other pretext as soon as possible.

However, things changed once he completed his studies and we returned home for good. Even though Lord James was mostly away, there were servants around, not to mention the Stanleys who had known Anthony since his birth. However, the biggest problem was that Anthony's father pressured him to get married.

One after another invitation to balls, parties and hunting seasons poured in for my master. For three years he made excuses and avoided being wed, for how could he explain his inclination to his wife? But the pressure kept on increasing until it became impossible to avoid the topic, and that was when he saw Lady Isabella at her aunt's ball.

Suddenly it seemed that all his problems would be solved. Getting married and having an heir would take his father off his back, and he was sure that Lady Isabella would be content to live the life of a countess without bothering him too much.

But of course it didn't happen like that; few things in life do.

I remember how worried he was when he had to meet his intended in the sun room. When I suggested that he gain some Dutch courage, he agreed immediately. One drink led to another, and before we knew he was on the verge of passing out. Eventually he begged Lord Edward to take his place, and he did so, albeit reluctantly.

I soothed him until his brother returned to say all had gone well, but I could not help thinking that this path he had chosen was not going to end well. If he was nervous to face his lady, how was he going to be intimate with her?

However, his confidence came back after Lord Edward's report. The next morning—in fact, right until his wedding night he remained cheerful and optimistic that all would be well after the wedding.

Of course I noticed how pensive his brother became whenever this topic arose, but why would I have said anything? It was not my place to do so, and if Lord Edward chose to hide his feelings for Lady Isabella, I could certainly hold my tongue.

Everything went downhill after that. Anthony returned from his bride's room without consummating their marriage while Lord Edward tried to drink himself into a stupor. I gave him company for a while, but then I withdrew to my room that adjoined his and sat on my cot and mulled over the foolishness both of them were exhibiting. Why were they being so stubborn?

Next evening Anthony begged his cousin to go to his wife, arguing that any child she bore would still be a Masen. Though Lord Edward argued against it, he agreed in the end.

While he was gone, I asked Anthony what he was thinking, playing this dangerous game. For the first time since I had known him, he was less than honest, pretending he didn't know what I meant and that everything was all right. I didn't pester him further.

Mrs. Stanley tried to speak with him once or twice, pleading that his actions were unfair as well as immoral and could only lead to a disastrous end. To my dismay, my master gently but firmly forbade her to bring up the topic again. He also asked her to make sure that the servants wouldn't babble about anything they noticed to anyone outside the manor. I could see she was not happy with his decision, but she promised anyway.

Of course the attraction between Lord Edward and Lady Isabella increased to the point where Lord Edward refused to keep my master's secrets at the cost of his happiness. It was bound to happen, but instead of sharing his problem with his love and leaving the country together, he chose to burden Anthony with the whole responsibility. It led to the only serious fight between them that I had ever seen, ending in the compromise that lord Edward would leave England if it was proven that Lady Isabella did not love him.

Again, it was unfair for the lady to proclaim her love for him without knowing everything, and in front of her husband too! However, she could have done something about it later on, instead of passively waiting for things to change.

The only good thing that came out of the whole mess was little Miss Lizzie. She was a beam of sunshine, pretty as a flower and chirpy like a bird. I honestly think Anthony would have died earlier if she had not been there to cheer him up with her laughter and her sweet warbling.

Of course, it also multiplied his guilt when he realised that it should have been her real father enjoying her childlike prattling.

Though his love for me never waned, it was no longer enough to sustain him and keep his spirit unbowed. I could see him wasting away in front of my eyes, but other than assuring him of my devotion to him I could do no more.

One day he even broke down in Miss Lizzie's room, berating himself as a coward who had spread misery all round. Now, that was an exaggeration. I know for certain that the people who worked for him and lived nearby had a high opinion of him. He was kind and good-natured, and always concerned with the welfare of those who depended upon him. It was only where emotional matters were concerned that he went in the wrong direction.

A few days before he passed away, he called me to his bedside and gave me a picture of his to keep.

"Read the inscription on the back."

I turned it around and read the words. " _To Jasper, My One and Only Love_."

"I am sorry that I cannot give you more than this," he said sadly. "Your life with me was shadowy and colourless, Jasper. I hope you find something better to do after I am gone, and someone better to love."

I shut my eyes but tears squeezed past my eyelids anyway. I shook my head, unable to say anything to console him. He stroked my hair affectionately.

"Don't grieve for me, do you hear?" I nodded, aware that I was lying to him. "Edward is a good man. If you choose to stay here, he will be a good master. If you wish to leave, he will see to it that you are compensated well."

To be truthful, I had not considered my future after Anthony's death. It was too painful because it felt as if I was giving up hope. And I just could not do that.

However, hanging on to hope did not prolong his miserable life. One morning I went to wake him up, ready with hot water for his shave, and found him gone. Though I wept for him, I could not help feeling that death to him was a deliverance from life and something to be thankful for.

The thought didn't help me when it came to living without him though. I tried to be content in serving Lord Edward. He was easy to work for and understood and respected my grief, but as the months passed I became more and more restless. Finally I asked my new master to release me from his service and wrote to my cousin, asking him if he could find employment for me. I had a feeling that returning to my village and being with my family would heal my wounds to some extent.

Luckily, my cousin invited me to join him in the business of boat-building, saying that he would teach me the work. Lord Edward said he was sad to see me go, but he also understood my feelings and did not force me to stay. However, he requested me to defer my journey until the beginning of spring so that the roads would be safer.

The arrival of Lord James was completely unexpected, but as I said before, what happened next was not. I am only thankful that Lord Edward saved my life from his uncle's cruel hands. My future may not be perfect, but I still want to live.

I know Alice has feelings for me. Unfortunately, I could not return them. Will I ever feel love for a woman? I don't know. It is not something I wish to delve upon now.

I have no expectations from life, except some peace of mind. As long as I come by that, I am willing to take the rest of my life one day at a time.

After all, as Charles Dickens said in his recent series, trifles make the sum of life.

* * *

 **A.N.** : "Trifles make the sum of life." (David Copperfield). It was published as a series before being published as a novel.

Remember that Jasper is loyal only to Anthony and his views are coloured by his love for his former master. He cannot be impartial.

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	39. Chapter 39

Thank you for your heartfelt responses to Jasper's POV. And thank you to the new readers who read and reviewed every chapter, taking me through the story once again. Also, a sincere thank you to the guest reviewer who left such a sweet review that it brought tears to my eyes. You people truly are the best readers!

About this chapter. It is an EPOV of Edward's return to Masen Hall and meeting Bella for the first time after that. In a way, it follows the events of Outtake-1. I have not kept the dialogue same as in the original chapter because that would have been boring, right?

Apologies for any mistakes in advance. I have a cold, and though it should not affect my brain, somehow it does.

* * *

 **Outtake-4**

 **Edward returns Home**

Home.

A safe place.

A place that calls to you when you are away, where you can rest your weary soul even as you rest you head on your pillow.

Where your heart fills with gladness because you know that you are among loved ones, where you are accepted as you are and not judged for your faults and shortcomings.

Is Masen Hall that place?

As a child, my home was with my mother and father. My world with them was safe and full of love. Yes, there were rules to be followed, but they were lovingly implemented. My parents explained that their aim was to keep me safe, healthy and happy, and guide me so I could grow up into a good man.

Anthony completed my world by being my playmate, my partner in all the adventures we cooked up and my older brother who could answer all my questions, even the silliest ones. In a way my home was his home too, for Masen Hall, for all its opulence and servants to do all his biddings was more of a mansion than anything else. Even though James wasn't there for weeks together, and Mr and Mrs Stanley took good care of him, he felt no attachment to the place.

Of course, when James _was_ there, Anthony couldn't wait for him to leave. Every day and every hour passed heavily, with the fear of displeasing his father in some way or other weighing upon him constantly. He made me shadow him all through the day in the hope that James wouldn't be too hard on him, but I doubt it helped his cause. I pitied him, but there was not much I could do to save him from his father's insults and punishments.

And of course I had to return home every evening, leaving him at the mansion. I am a little ashamed to say that I did that gladly, even though I was aware that Anthony would have preferred me to stay with him. The nursery wing was a large one, with room after room for little ones, and James was not opposed to my staying in one of those. But I always felt uncomfortable around him and ran off to my mother as soon as the day waned. Our modest house was my home, my sanctuary.

All that changed after my father passed away.

Of course my mother still loved me and took care of me, but there was something missing. The feeling of safety that surrounded me when I was with her had faded somewhat, and it took me years to realise that it had been there in the first place because she absorbed it from my father and then radiated it to me. When he was gone, he took from her the strength to face the world cheerfully. I like to think that she regained it eventually, but it took years. Meanwhile, that insecurity filtered from her to me.

It didn't help that James became even more autocratic, with none to oppose him. He also began to treat me much like he treated his son, which was not a good thing in his case. The physical punishments I had witnessed Anthony undergo became my share as well. My mother tried her best to shield me, but she could not defy James directly, who insisted that they helped in building character. Perhaps she too was scared of him.

I knew she cried when I was beaten by James, so over the years I became adept at hiding my pain from her. There was also a sense of being the man of the house, as it were, in lieu of my father. How could I show her any weakness?

Anthony and I consoled each other, but when he went away to college I had none to share my misery with. When a youth from the village became friendly with me and promised to show me _a good time_ , I didn't hesitate to follow his instructions. That led to the worst beating of my life when James discovered us in the stable. My back was a bloody mess by the time he stopped.

James left for London the same evening, leaving me in the care of the Stanleys. I begged them not to let my mother know, for it would have broken her heart. Instead I hid in their quarters until my back healed and I could walk without pain. It was only years later that my mother saw the lines on my back and discovered the extent of James' cruelty. I promised her that one day James would pay for everything he had done.

I had always had an affinity with horses, so I was happy when James directed me to work in the stables. There I felt a peace that eluded me otherwise. I talked to the horses and did not care if the other grooms laughed at me, sure that they understood every word I uttered. I was not sure what to do with my life, but when I was with my beloved animals I dreamt of greatness.

When Anthony took over the running of the estate, he protested that I didn't need to do such a lowly job, but I explained that I liked it. Finally he gave me the title of the stable manager and asked me to delegate the menial tasks like cleaning the stalls to other boys. It gave me the freedom of focussing my skills on training the horses, so I happily accepted it.

And then Bella came into my life, and everything changed.

The one thing that did not change was that Masen Hall still didn't feel like home. Not when I fell in love with Bella, not when she came to live in the great house, and not even when I visited her during the nights. In fact, it became imperative that I succeed in my own right so that I could take her with me to some far off place where nobody would recognise us.

But life has its own plans, doesn't it? My success came at a cost—being away from Bella and Lizzie for years. And now that Anthony has passed away and I have to take his place, I am scared of going to the place that can be my home, finally. I am excited to see Bella of course, and I am determined to win her love, but I am scared nevertheless. I know she was attracted to me when I was there, but I doubt that she loved me. In fact, she made it quite clear that she didn't when Anthony asked her.

In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest idea to ask her in front of her husband, and that too without having declared my feelings for her. Why did I agree to Anthony's plan anyway?

Well, what is done is done. Tomorrow I leave for home, or at least I hope it will be home in the future.

-ATW-

I arrive late evening, and straightaway go to see my mother, even though James had let me know he would like to meet me as soon as I reach the hall. He can wait until the morning.

Mother greets me with a loving hug and tears in her eyes—of joy, she assures me. Then she holds me at arm's length and looks at me as if checking every part of me is intact. I can't help but laugh and ask her if I am missing an ear or have grown a third eye.

"Hush," she chastises fondly. "You can't imagine how much a mother misses her child, my son. I tried to imagine your face while reading the letters you wrote—not that there were many—and your voice addressing me as mother. Do you realise how long it's been since I saw you last?"

"What about a father?" I blurt without thinking.

She looks at me strangely, and I realise what I have almost given away. She can never know about Lizzie being mine.

"I mean, if Father would have been alive, do you think he would have missed me equally?"

My amendment seems to work as her face relaxes.

"I am sure he would have, son." Her eyes mist as she stares at me while thinking of him. "You look so much like him. And I am glad to see you looking well."

"I _am_ well, Mother," I assure her. "Just a little tired from all the travelling and making all the arrangements before that. Do you mind if I go to bed early?"

She doesn't, of course, so we have a light supper and retire. However, it's a while before sleep comes to me. My mind is full of plans for the estate, of the impending meeting with James, and most of all the anticipation of seeing Bella the next morning.

James grumbles a little when I see him, but I pacify him by saying I didn't wish to disturb him so late. Finally he tells me that we have urgent business with the solicitor, so we will meet him first and get the legalities out of the way.

"I will inform Isabella that you will see her at three o'clock," he continues. My heart speeds up, but I maintain a neutral countenance. "At four, you will meet Jenks and begin to go through Anthony's correspondence and other documents related to the estate. I will remain here to help you settle down for this month, even though I don't have the time to spare." He raises an eyebrow to convey the importance of the statement, and I bite my tongue and smile in a grateful manner, curbing my instinct to tell him he is most welcome to leave right now if he wants to. That just won't do.

Somehow I keep a cool head throughout my meeting with the solicitor, even though my heart is demanding that I go and see Bella immediately. After all, it is important that the transfer of the title and the property to my name be without any loopholes. I will not allow James to dictate me, and for that it is essential that he has no power over me.

Finally it is three and I am shown into the small parlour, where I pace for a minute and then stand near the window and look at the garden outside, hoping to calm my mind. My eyes however continue to dart at the door, as soon as I hear her light footsteps my heartbeat rises. The next moment, my Bella enters the room.

I greet her with a bow and a suitable address, but my eyes are taking in every part of her appearance. She looks beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, yet she has changed in subtle ways. Her face is more rounded, though tinged with sorrow. The curves of her body are more pronounced, making her look more womanly. She seems to have grown into her title and her position as the mistress of Masen estate in the years we have been apart. Of course, Anthony had a lot of guests here, so it would have been necessary for Bella to wear the mantle of Lady Isabella.

Anthony. He is dead, and that is why I am here.

"I am truly sorry for your loss, Isabella," I say quietly. "Anthony was like a brother to me. His sudden passing away was a shock to me. I can only imagine it must have been even worse for you."

Her face betrays no emotion, but there is disbelief in her eyes. Does she think I am unaffected by his death?

She asks me if I would like to have tea. I agree so I can have a moment alone with her. I can't talk with her with the maid hovering behind.

Finally we are alone. She takes a single seat, but it doesn't matter. I am not going to have any distance between us now. I choose a footstool and sit in front of her, as close as possible. It is ill-mannered perhaps, but I can't help it.

"How are you, Isabella? Really?"

"I am well, my lord."

 _For goodness sake, stop giving me stock answers and look at me!_

I want to touch her so badly, I take her hands in mine. She looks up in shock, and our eyes meet.

Oh Lord, the emotions swirling in them! The sweetness of her breath! I can almost feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. Another second, and I will lose my mind and kiss her. No, I will seat her in my lap and cover her face with kisses. Probably more. And the devil take the protocol!

I groan in frustration, and she jerks back as if burned.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Her eyes have fire in them now, enough to turn me into cinders.

I try to pacify her, but she is not ready to listen. She doesn't want me to call her Bella, and announces that I will never take her late husband's place.

I had not expected the transition to be easy, but her statement puzzles me. Could she really love Anthony after the cold shoulder he gave her for years? Or is it the guilt speaking?

The later, most probably. I have to give her time. Though how will she truly move on without knowing the whole truth, I don't know.

I shift back as well. "I don't intend to replace Anthony," I assure her, adding that this might be our second chance at happiness. That much is reasonable, isn't it? Surely she can see that she can't spend her whole life grieving after a man who had been her husband in name only? Even if she doesn't know the whole truth, she has gone through enough in the last few years.

However, she stubbornly declares that there will be no more happiness in her life. Well, let her believe it for the time being. I will change her mind soon enough.

I almost laugh when she says that I should marry someone else. Oh my Bella! You have no idea, do you? Nothing and nobody will stop me from making you mine, in word and in deed.

When I use James' first name, it shocks her. I am glad. Let her see how much I have changed, how much stronger I am. This time, I will truly take care of her.

"It is a pity girls can't inherit the title," she says, meaning that I wouldn't be needed to run the estate. Really? Does my being here displeases her so much?

But before I can ask her that, I am distracted by what it implies. My daughter.

Suddenly I cannot wait to see her, even though I am scared that she might consider me an outsider, an unwelcome presence in her life.

When I ask Bella if I can see Lizzie, she seems surprised. Even if Lizzie had been Anthony's, I would have wanted to know her. Is that so hard to imagine?

The tea arrives, and we dispense with it as quickly as possible. Bella eats little, which reminds me of Mrs Stanley's worry. It seems she hasn't been eating well since Anthony passed away. As for me, I just want to see my daughter without any more delay.

As we climb the stairs, my heart seems to be sinking to my stomach. My hands are clammy. What if she dislikes me, just as Bella seems to? I have some idea as to win Bella over, but a child? Though there were children among those who wanted to learn riding at my stable, none was as young as Lizzie. And even if any of them would have been, I would still be scared where my daughter is concerned.

" _Please God, let her not hate me, at least."_

Lizzie is colouring a picture in a big book, her expression a study in concentration. As soon as she sees Bella, she runs to her, smiling.

My daughter with her arms around Bella's neck. My daughter. _My daughter._

Everything that I had lost has been restored to me. My family. My home.

Yes, at this moment, Masen Hall feels like home to me, for the first time in my life.

"Mamma, who is he?" she asks in a sweet voice even as she peeks at me.

Bella sits down with Lizzie in her lap. I want to sit with them, but perhaps it is too soon?

I take the chair opposite to them, and Bella introduces me to Lizzie as Lord Edward Masen. When prompted, Lizzie stands and curtsies to me, looking so adorable that my voice catches in my throat.

I answer her with some difficulty, then take a deep breath and tell her how beautiful she is, just like her mother.

When I ask her if I can call her Lizzie as Elizabeth is my mother's name as well, she surprises me by asking what she should call me. Of course, however much I want her to call me Papa, I can't ask her to do that. So I tell her to call me uncle for now.

It feels like a knife twisting in my heart that I can't let her know that she is my daughter, ever. It will destroy her life.

But, I vow, I will be a father to her. She will never feel the absence of one, be she five or twenty five. I might have missed years of her life, but I will make up for it, grow into the role of a father she will love one day.

She is a happy child. When I ask her to show me her colouring-book, she does so with no hesitation. For a few minutes, I lose myself in the world of colours and innocence.

Then Maggie, Lizzie's governess, appears and the spell is broken. Once again I am Lord Edward Masen, not a father. I am glad to see however that Maggie seems to be a nice woman, not unduly strict.

It's time to leave the nursery. I ask Lizzie if I can visit her again, and she agrees happily. However, Bella doesn't seem to be happy with the idea.

When I ask her if she minds my visiting Lizzie, she gives a roundabout answer, stating that Lizzie will be disappointed if I do not keep my word.

I know that the past is not easy to forget, but why would my effort to connect with Lizzie displease her so much? Does she not want Lizzie to have a father, or is it that she doesn't trust me to be a good one?

I don't want to cause her pain in any way, so I only say that I wish to know Lizzie better. Of course, it just slips out that I consider her an important part of our family, and Bella latches on to that.

"Our family," she repeats as if I have committed a crime by saying that. Of course, she takes it as my wish to replace Anthony in her life. It seems as if I cannot do _anything_ right!

It embarrasses me, how much I want to do right in her eyes, to have her depend upon me, to _need_ me.

I inform her that I will be in the office on most days though I am living with my mother for now. Perhaps she would want to speak with me in a few days, when her anger has cooled down and she is more amenable to the idea of marrying me.

She squashes my hope instantly, saying there would be no need for us to meet before the wedding as everything has been arranged as per James' instructions. I swallow my disappointment and my opinion on James' _instructions._

"I will see you at the wedding, then," I say, add a polite goodnight and turn away. I have waited for years; I can wait thirty days more. After that, Bella will be mine.

Only I can't, of course. Before she has fully expelled her next breath, I turn around and snatch her close to me. Her lips open to protest against the embrace but I give her no opportunity to do so, covering them with mine. Her softness, her warmth, her fragrance—everything combines to rob me of all logic. Oh, it is heavenly to feel her lips moving against mine, to taste them one by one. I keep my tongue to myself, but my hands are not in my control, roaming on her back and pressing her to me, familiarising them with her new curves. Having her in my arms again is unbelievable. I have been dreaming of her every night, but the reality far surpasses the imagination.

I don't want to let her go, but of course I have to. My whole body is _aching_ for her, though one particular part more so than the rest. Could she have felt it straining to get closer to her?

The stinging slap I feel on my cheek, combined with Bella's blazing eyes and furious expression, assures me that whether or not she felt my sword's longing to sheath itself inside her, she did not like the way I pounced on her.

Or did she? There was a flash of something like shame in her eyes before she slapped me. Can it be that she liked the kissing but thinks it is wrong to enjoy it so soon after losing Anthony? That is what society dictates to us, doesn't it?

She says she will do her duty when we are married. Not if I have any say in the matter. This time, her marriage will be all about love, not duty. I will give her so much love that she will forget the pain she has undergone in the past, the coldness of her supposed husband and the guilt she harbours in her heart. There will be adoration and laughter during the days, and excitement and lust during the nights. She will forget how empty, how barren her marital bed has been as I will worship her body and warm her heart. She will learn to enjoy her life again.

I answer her as if I am accepting a challenge and tell her that I will prove to her that she wants me as much as she did six years ago, but I will do much more than that. I will make her love me as I love her.

 _Dum Spiro Spero._ That is the Masen family's motto on its coat-of-arms.

 _While I have breath, I have hope._

* * *

 **A.N.** : Interestingly enough, I found a Masen family in the long list of titled English families of the past, and this was the motto they had. Fitting, isn't it?

Next outtake will be an EPOV of the early days of their marriage.

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	40. Chapter 40

Once again your lovely words have left me speechless. You have been extremely generous with your praise and encouragement. Thank you!

This chapter is relatively short, but I am leaving for a short vacation tomorrow, so I wanted to post this. The next part, for which most of you are probably waiting, I will write and post as soon as I am back.

* * *

Outtake-5

 **Mine, Finally**

The month passed both quickly and slowly. There was no dearth of work for me, and I was kept busy all day with documents and meetings. There was so much about the estate I had no idea about, as my work as a stable manager had limited my area quite a bit. Also, Anthony had developed it a lot more in the years I had been away. Jenks was invaluable, patiently taking me through all the important data and introducing me to Anthony's business friends. He assured me that it was only a matter of time before I would get everything right.

James on the other hand was an insufferable ass. All he did was to praise himself and criticise Anthony and me. Many a times I had to grit my teeth in order to keep my words unspoken and clench my hands so that I might not bodily throw him out of the mansion. I was not going to take a chance antagonising him before all the formalities were complete and the documents were in my possession, complete with the royal seal.

I had hoped to see Bella before the wedding, but it seemed that she was deliberately staying away from me. Not that she had indicated otherwise on the day I had spoken with her.

Fortunately, Lizzie had no objections to see me. She was happy to see me, talked and played with me, and gave me her precious hugs and kisses without reservation. There was no doubt that she made my days bright and warmed my heart more than the summer sun outside. When I hesitantly informed her that I was going to marry her mother, her only question was—"Does that mean that you will stay here with us?"

I hugged her and promised that I was not going to leave her ever. She clapped and smiled; I smiled and quickly wiped away my tears.

When I told her that I had a brought a blue dress for her mother, to be worn on the wedding day, she asked if she too could wear blue. I agreed it was a splendid idea, and then spoke with my mother and Bella's parents, and all of us decided to have a touch of blue in our clothes on the day of the wedding. Of course, Lizzie's royal blue frock and little tiara made her look like a princess!

My first meeting with Bella's parents was rather nerve-wrecking, but I think they approved of me finally. Her father didn't say much, but he observed me keenly. I half expected him to somehow discover all my secrets by looking at me, but if he had any suspicions he kept them to himself.

My mother was happy for me, of course. Even though I had not admitted anything to her, I think she guessed that I felt something for Bella. The distracted state of my mind might have given her a clue. I am sure that there were times when she asked me something over dinner and had to repeat herself because I did not hear her the first time. Also, however much I tried to act like a mature man, I could not help smiling like a fool whenever she mentioned my upcoming nuptials to Bella.

I don't think she minded my absentmindedness. All she said was that she was happy for both me and Bella. And also for Lizzie, of course.

The ring I had ordered for Bella arrived from London in good time, with _Amorem, Non Potest Esse Quod Factum Est_ engraved on the inside. It means that love cannot be undone. It is my pledge to her.

I know that she cannot understand the Latin words, but I am hoping that she will become curious and ask me.

There is also another ring, for me. I am aware that men seldom wear a wedding ring, but I want to belong to Bella and also want the world to know it. The words engraved on it are _Amore Omnia Vincit_. Love conquers all. In my case though it is more of a hope and less of a proclamation, seeing there are many obstacles in the way of our love becoming successful. I hope that she will love me one day, and that she will forgive me for all the lies I have told her, for being a part of Anthony's plans.

By the time the month nears the end, I feel comfortable at Masen Hall, and with my new title as well. All the necessary paperwork is complete and I am ready to take charge of my responsibilities. And I am definitely ready for James' departure!

The day of the wedding dawns bright and clear, a good omen. The ceremony is to be held in the garden and will be very private. I don't want the entire village gawking at Bella. Heaven knows she must be uncomfortable enough without a crowd in front of her. Her parents and siblings matter to her, and they will be here. So will be my mother.

Mrs Stanley has already conveyed to me how pleased she is that I am marrying Bella. She probably knows that I have always loved her, and that Anthony was never a real husband to her. It does not trouble me; she is very discreet.

The garden is bursting with flowers, a fitting background to my lovely bride. When I see her in the blue dress I had purchased for her, my throat becomes so dry that I am afraid I won't be able to say my vows. I had dreamt of this moment, certainly, but to see it turn into reality overwhelms me. My heart fills with so much happiness that it is a wonder it does not burst, even as my head bows with gratitude. How many people get a second chance like this?

I say my vows and hear Bella say hers, and then we exchange rings. The minister pronounces us husband and wife, and suddenly I want to be alone with Bella. If it was not for the people who are waiting to congratulate us and the meal that we are supposed to share with them, I would have carried my wife to her room right now and made sweet love to her.

Then James makes his utterly crass remark about bedding Bella quickly, and it both enrages me as well as cools me down. How can I think about lovemaking while Bella doesn't even like me? Yes, she will let me do anything I please because I am her husband now, but all I want is to please her. It is imperative that she understand this—I do not want her to accept me and my lust because it is her _duty_. Rather I wish her to discover the pleasure we can give each other because she wants to, perhaps even crave it in future. However difficult it is to control my baser impulse, I must do it.

I must show her, very slowly, that physical intimacy can be a wonderful thing. I must practice patience; only then will we be able to reap the fruits of being a true couple.

* * *

 **A.N.** : Obviously, the next part is all about their discovering each other. Edward will have to be very, very patient!


	41. Chapter 41

Thank you for your lovely words for the previous chapter. It is heartening to know you are interested in the outtakes.

Goa is all sun, sand and surf, so I had a great time there. :)

This chapter is EPOV of Chapter-7, just in case you want to refer to the original. However, it is not a word-for-word reproduction of the dialogue.

* * *

 **Outtake-6**

 **Our real first time**

I almost fail in practicing patience where my attraction to Bella is concerned, and this even before our wedding night arrives.

After the reception is over and the guests have departed, James and Jenks propose that we go to the village and meet the people who wish to congratulate me on gaining the title and getting married. Much as I don't want to leave my bride alone, I understand that this has to be done. Not only I am to work for people's welfare, but I should also gain their goodwill. They see me as replacing Anthony, filling the empty space he had left amongst them. I don't need to copy everything he did, but I must be as approachable to them as he used to be.

However, I excuse myself for a couple of minutes before we leave the manor to accompany Bella to her room and kiss her. I am rather forceful, but I do not realise this until later.

And this is why I enter her room with some trepidation later at night. What kind of impression must I have made upon her?

My body is still eager to claim her, but my heart…it wants to make up for the emptiness Bella has had in her life for the last six years. It wants to see her lit up with happiness.

It is not possible to do this in one day, of course, but I can at least take the first step tonight.

Bella's maid leaves us with a soft good night, and I shut the door and bolt it before turning to my wife.

My wife. I can still not believe that I can call her that. I pinch myself to be sure it is not a dream, one of those countless dreams I have had while I was far away from her.

She still hasn't turned towards me, but our eyes meet in the mirror as I stand behind her. My arms go around her without my making a conscious decision, and my chin rests on her shoulder. I can't quite read her expression, but she seems nervous.

Why would she be nervous? Because of the newness of our relationship, or because of what she thinks is going to happen between us? Sweet heaven, does she think I am going to force her into physical intimacy?

"What?" she whispers.

"Are you scared of me, Isabella? Was I too rough when I kissed you?" I ask with some apprehension, remembering my words to her. Why did I have to be so vocal? "I am sorry if—"

What if she hates me?

Her answer reveals nothing of her like or dislike. "My lord, it is your right to—"

"Edward," I insist, placing a soft kiss on her collar bone and feeling her shiver slightly. Did she like that?

"Huh?"

I ask her to call me by my given name, adding that I have been waiting for years to hear it from her.

"Edward, then."

The words are music to my ears, and the breathy voice in which she utters them gives me some confidence. Perhaps my touch is not distasteful to her.

I turn her around so I can see her face without looking at the mirror. The delectable pink of her cheeks proves that she is not averse to my attentions. It makes me happy; it also makes me want to tease her a little.

"So what were you saying about my right?"

She blushes even harder as she speaks of my marital rights. It is such a becoming sight that I continue to tease her, asking her exactly what comes under my rights according to her. It annoys her, of course, and she scolds me that it is not something a married couple talks about among themselves.

Isn't that strange? After a man and a woman are married, they are supposed to have sex but not talk about it. If not for my years on the continent, I would have been one of those men even now.

I stop teasing Bella, however, aware that she is not comfortable with the topic. Instead, I ask her if it will be better to show her what I mean.

She is agreeable, so I begin with kissing her soft, fragrant neck, enjoying the light floral scent present there. Thence I progress to her shoulder, moving the cloth covering it to one side. Thankfully it is loose and ruffled and slips down easily, baring the pale skin that seems to glow in the candlelight. My lips feast on it eagerly, even as I draw her closer to me, losing myself in the exquisite sensation. When my hand goes to her breast, she moans sweetly.

Encouraged by the sound, I let my mouth follow my hand, tasting the hardened peak through the thin cloth. But then I become aware that she is pulling at my hair, and not in an encouraging manner. Does she want me to stop, now?

She is saying something about the candle. What in the blazes has a candle to do with what we are doing?

"Eh?" I look at her finally.

"You have to blow out the candle."

"Why?" I blink at her, trying to make sense of her words.

She tells me that we can't do _anything_ until then, and that Mary, her maid before Alice, used to leave the room dark so it wouldn't be awkward later on.

Oh. _Oh. Of course._

Little does she know that Mary had that standing instruction from Anthony. She probably didn't think anything of it as it was a common enough practice, but it was important for us for a different reason. Had she been married to me in the first place, I would have worshipped her delectable body both with my eyes and my hands, leaving no part hidden.

Well, what is done is done. But she _is_ my wife now, and I won't let her feel awkward of intimacy or ashamed of her body. There will no darkness in our bedroom while we experience the joys of lovemaking, no, nor any silence either. We will not suppress our natural responses just because it is the expected thig to do.

Of course, when I tell her that I want to _see_ her, she is shocked.

And when I ask her if she wants to see me, her reaction is priceless. Her face becomes red with embarrassment, but her eyes travel up and down my body quickly as if trying to guess what they might find behind my garments. She is probably not even aware of the action, so I don't call her upon it. But it gives me hope.

"Isabella?" I draw her attention back to me. "I asked you if you would like to see me without any clothes."

She stutters and stammers that it doesn't seem right. Of course she thinks so. That is what she must have heard from all the women she has known all her life.

I point out to her that it is only social conditioning that makes us think so, but then I see how surprised and pleased she looks that I call her _sweetheart._ I did not even realise it, but it's how I think of her, so I take a chance and assure her of my love and devotion.

Sadly, she has doubts. And of course, the guilt that must have eaten her from inside all these years rears its ugly head. But before she can berate herself further, I stop her.

If only I could tell her everything right now! But no, it's too soon, and I would like to keep Anthony's secret for as long as possible.

First, we should get to know each other again. We should learn to enjoy the fruits of marital bliss, of true companionship and emotional closeness.

It seems Bella is thinking along the same line, except for one difference. She thinks that I may have loved her past self, but since I don't know her present self, I can't love her.

I beg to differ. I loved her when she was an eighteen year old girl and I love her now that she is a woman and a mother—the mother of my child. Yes, I don't know what her body is like right now, but I want to discover it.

Fortunately, she accepts my caresses and my intentions. I unbutton her gown and let my hand slip inside and find her breast.

"Ahhh," she moans, and promptly covers her mouth.

"Don't do that," I tell her. "If you feel like making a sound, I want to hear it."

She thinks it is shameless. I assure her that it's not, rather it is the acknowledgement of her pleasure.

I can see it is going to take some time to convince her that sexual pleasure is not something to be ashamed of, but I think I look forward to the challenge.

Slowly, one by one, I will remove her inhibitions.

When she leans on me, eyes closed and breath quickened, I can't take it anymore. I carry her to the bed, lay her down and drink in her beauty.

I am painfully hard due to all the kissing and touching we have done, and will probably not last long, but I still want to do something different for her. Different from what she is used to, that is.

Her small, pretty feet beckon me, and I press little kisses on them.

She giggles. "Edward, what are you doing?"

I look up at her and smile. I want her to understand that kissing and touching is pleasurable all over the body and not only in a few selective places.

As I progress to her calves and then the back of her knees, she lets out a small, indistinct sound. I think she likes the sensation.

But when I reach her thighs and use my lips as well as my teeth there, she begins to squirm and whimper. Perhaps it is too much for her, this newness.

Frankly, it's getting too much for me as well, so I hastily move up, determined to heighten her pleasure as much as possible. I kiss her deeply, then move to her neck and finally to her breasts, while my hips move over hers. It takes only a minute or two for me to climax, but even before that I feel Bella shuddering, her hands stilling in my hair as her body arches and then relaxes.

Not bad, for our first time together. Our real first time. I don't count the short, fumbling-in-the-dark encounters when I was impersonating Anthony at his instruction. They were too hasty and impersonal to bring any satisfaction to either of us.

Still, when she confesses that she has never had an orgasm before, it is a blow to my ego. Never? True, I had no idea what I was doing then, but I still imagined that she got her release at least a few times.

And now she is asking me if it is even possible for women to feel as good as men do.

What an idiot I was!

She adds that it had been the same with Anthony, no doubt trying to make me feel better, but it doesn't, for obvious reasons.

The only consolation to me is that I have a lifetime to make it up to her.

* * *

 **A.N.** : So that was what Edward was thinking their second first time. Did you notice that his thoughts were different from Bella's at some points? I thought that was more natural, rather than Edward mind-reading everything!

Just one more outtake remaining, of Edward's relationship with the widow in Paris. Hmm, this is going to be difficult.

One of you lovely people remarked that she would love to read the whole _Midnight Sun_ version of this story, but realizes it is not practical. Quite true. Still, thank you for the interest.

'Just Right For Me' is in the list for the last year's top ten stories on TwiFanfictionRecs. If you have voted for it, or are going to vote for it (there are still six days left, and you can vote daily), please accept my sincere thanks.


	42. Chapter 42

Some of you were concerned that this outtake might be too angsty, or Edward being with another woman painful to read, but the level of angst here is no higher than that of the story as a whole. As for Edward's relationship with the widow, this chapter deals more with how it came to be and not what all it included. Hope that helps!

* * *

 **Outtake-7**

 **Edward in Paris**

My first two years in Paris were spent in ceaseless toil. I was careful with the capital I had courtesy of Anthony. I was also aware that it would not do to be reckless in the quest for success, so I began small, teaching riding to children and young ladies and gentlemen. When I had a steady earning from that, I spread the word that I could train horses well. The jobs began as a trickle but increased steadily as the clients praised my skills to their friends and acquaintances. Eventually I had enough to buy my own foals, train them to race and then either sell them to other people or enter them in various races myself. By the end of my third year there, I was doing very well, my income increasing in leaps and bounds as more and more people came to know my name and my horses won one race after the other. I could, without being conceited, consider myself successful.

However, success alone was not going to make me happy, that I knew as certainly as the sun rises in the east. The girl who had my heart was far away from me, and I had not even seen my daughter. From Anthony there was no news of any plan in the near future—in fact, he did not write to me at all. What little I knew of home came from Mrs Stanley or my mother, but she never went to the Hall, so her accounts were second hand at best.

All in all, my life was comfortable but extremely dull. Even when I attended a party at the insistence of some acquaintance of mine who hoped that I would like a girl there and cheer up a bit, my eyes searched for Bella even though my rational mind told me she could not possibly be there. It was the same when I went to the ballet and my companion asked me if I fancied one of the dancers.

"Most of them are looking for a patron who would help them with expenses for advanced classes, so they can get better positions in the ballet and make a name for themselves," explained Demetri, the gentleman who had taken upon himself to better my life. "Take a good look, make your choice and let me know. I will speak to the director or the girl's chaperon and make a suitable arrangement. You can't live alone for years!"

Demetri was a wealthy Russian who loved horse racing as much as he loved women. He didn't have a mistress because he claimed that he would be bored of her in a month. Instead, he appeared at every gathering with a different woman on his arm.

When I gave him a horrified look and refused his offer, he huffed with genuine frustration. "You are such a prude, Edward. Have you even known the delights of a woman's body, or are you saving yourself for marriage?" The very idea made him snicker.

I answered that I had indeed known the delights of a woman's body, as he called them, but it was with a special girl and I was waiting for the day I could claim her as mine in front of all the world.

He guffawed loudly, though I couldn't see what was funny in my statement.

"You are suffering from some strange malady, my friend," he declared when he stopped loudly. "I will introduce you to Irina. She will cure you of this peculiarity." He shook his head in wonder as if I was an exotic animal in the zoo. "This is no way to live your life. You will dry up like a stale prune, and your cock will wither away by the time you meet your girl again, since you do not use it at all. And then what will you offer her, eh?"

I did not believe everything he said, since he was prone to exaggeration, but I must confess that the part about my cock withering away worried me a great deal.

When I was introduced to Madame Irina, I had some fixed ideas about her. After all, a woman who discussed and dealt with issues related to sex could not be what one called a gentlewoman, could she?

I spoke very less at our first meeting, but even then I could see that she was kind and generous. She did not pry as to my past, but invited me to her house if ever I needed to speak to a friend.

"Living in a foreign country can be lonely," she said, her eyes sympathetic. "In my house you will find no judgment, only understanding. Come see me if you want to talk, share or even need a shoulder to cry. The doors are always open."

Almost three months after that meeting, I made use of her invitation, feeling very low of spirit. I had received a letter from Mrs Stanley that mentioned something of my daughter's speech, and it made me want to rant at life's unfairness and cry at the same time.

After getting royally drunk and writing a letter to Anthony that my servant posted in the morning while I was asleep, I still felt miserable the next day. For a moment I debated if I should just go home and tell the truth to Bella, but I couldn't see anything good coming out of it. It would only embarrass her and lead to a scandal if one of the servants wagged their tongue in the village. And I couldn't even imagine how horrible it would be for my brother, as well as my mother. I would lose him for life, and my mother would not be able to show her face to anyone for the shame it would bring to her. No, I couldn't go home yet.

With some hesitation, I went to Irina's house. I was unsure if she would remember me, let alone welcome me without an appointment. Imagine my surprise when she welcomed me warmly and listened to my tale with compassion. Not that I spewed it out in one breath, but she understood more than I told her.

She shared with me some of her life story, letting me know that for all her splendour of the present she was not a stranger to hardships. When I told her that she was stronger than any person I had met, she smiled sympathetically.

"You are as strong as you believe yourself to be, Edward," she said, her eyes wise and her tone encouraging. "If you truly love this girl, have faith that one day you will be reunited with her. My question is—in what shape you will present yourself to her?"

I looked at her in confusion. "I am afraid I don't understand your question, Madame."

"Pardon me for being straightforward then," she answered. "As I understand, you are doing everything to be successful so that she can be proud of you, is that right?"

I nodded my assent, still wondering what she was leading up to.

"Do you think wealth and status will be enough to impress her and win her to you?" she queried with a raise of her eyebrows. "Don't you want to grow as a man too, someone she can look up to, someone she will find interesting?"

I was dumbfounded for a moment. I had not even thought of personal growth, imagining that my love for Bella and my newfound success in society would be enough for a happy and fulfilling life together.

"I can see you have paid no thought to the subject," said Irina with an amused smile. "You have been away from her for three years already, Edward. When you find her again, she will be different and so will you. So what are you doing to improve yourself as a man?"

"Uhh," was my brilliant reply. She laughed this time, not unkindly.

"Physically you are in good shape," she acknowledged, "from working with the horses, I presume. But what do you do otherwise? Do you read? Go to the opera? Play an instrument, perhaps?"

Shamefaced, I admitted that didn't do anything much except train the horses. Even though I had been a fair student, I had never thought about reading books other than to pass a test. Going to the opera seemed to me a social occasion more than an appreciation of music, and I had never played an instrument in my life.

"I am not saying that you have to do all of these things, Edward. But are you not curious about yourself? Until now you lived life as it came, but now it is time to discover yourself, is it not? Not just for Bella, but for your own sake too. Do new things, find out your likes and dislikes, broaden your mind. You will find that life has much to offer to you!"

That was a new beginning for me. I understood that by remaining miserable I was not helping either Bella or me, neither was it a proof of my love for her. I swore that I would never lose hope of our reunion, but meanwhile I would do other things too. As Irina had remarked, I didn't need to do everything, but I did need to find out what I _could_ do.

I began by reading a variety of books and discovered that history and biography appealed to me the most, and romance the least. In poetry, I preferred Wordsworth's simplicity and occasional mysticism, and also Milton's sonorous verse in _Paradise Lost._ Browning was a gamble; I liked some of his poems but the others completely passed over my head.

However, the poem I liked the most because it reminded me so much of Bella was _She walks in beauty_ by Lord Byron.

I came to appreciate the opera a little more than before, but I never developed an over-fondness for it. And I went out more, and actually made an effort to enjoy the company of other people. I even made a couple of friends!

At such a gathering I met Lea, a friend of Irina's. Lea was a widow, perhaps five or six years older to me. At first she reminded me of Bella. It wasn't only because of her long dark brown hair or beautiful brown eyes or a built that was very similar to Bella, but also because of her serious gaze and melancholy expression. Oh, she smiled and talked with people, but there was a loneliness to her that I could identify with pretty well. Irina introduced us, we had a few conversations at picnics and parties, and finally she invited me to her house.

Lea confessed that she liked me and would like to spend more time together. She also said that it had been nearly two years since her husband passed away, and she was ready for a physical relationship. She was extremely honest, almost blunt about it, and though I was shocked I was also intrigued.

"Why don't you get married again?" I asked. "Wouldn't that be better than having a fling?"

She shook her head. "I am not ready to choose a husband as yet. I have to be sure that the man I marry is not after my money. Also, I cannot have children, so I must find someone who already has children or do not want any. For now, I like you and I think we can tolerate each other for some months maybe, yes?"

I could not help laughing at her words, but then I told her that I must decline her generous offer because I was in love with someone else.

She wanted to know why I wasn't with my love, so I explained to her briefly. She looked at me in wonder and called me a fool.

"You should have been honest with her from the beginning, or at least told her everything before leaving. Now how will she trust you again?"

She threw her arms up with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh, why are men such fools?"

I could not help but laugh at her expression. "It would be a better world without them, wouldn't it be?"

She made a face. "I don't know about that. They are useful for…some things."

The look she directed at me made me blush.

We kept on meeting here and there, and became good friends. She did not repeat her offer, but sometimes she would flirt and drop hints.

When I asked Irina, she said that it was between the two of us, but it would not be a bad idea to have some experience in the field.

"Do you even know how to please a woman? Did you ever talk with Isabella about it?"

I must have looked aghast, for she rolled her eyes and called for heaven to give her patience. "Now you must take up Lea's offer. She can teach you a lot. Also, I have this wonderful book from India, the _Kamasutra._ You must read it. Edward, sex is an important part of life, nothing to be ashamed of. You want to show your love to Isabella, then you must learn how to please her in bed. A quick fumble in the dark is not enough to satisfy a woman!"

The more I thought over her words, the more I was convinced that she was right. I read the book she offered to me; it was a pleasant revelation to me in many ways. I also discussed parts of it with Irina, and learnt to have a more open mind.

My relationship with Lea, even with the addition of the physical part, remained in essence that of a friend. For the better part of a year, we provided each other with company that helped both of us alleviate our loneliness. She learnt to smile again, and so did I. And yes, I did learn a lot from her. I hoped that it would help me make Bella happy.

When she finally indicated that we should part ways, I accepted without hesitation. It was time for us to close that chapter, to turn the page over and begin anew.

* * *

 **A.N.** : And now we really are done!

Thank you once again for all the love and support you have given to this tale. You are the best and kindest readers ever.

I will write an EPOV for 'A Gift of Love' before I begin a new story, but whether it be a period piece or a contemporary one, it will be fun with a capital 'F'!


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